


The King & His Queen

by KayleighH2203



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Aftercare, All the Hobbit characters - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, BagginShield fluff, Balin - Freeform, Bard - Freeform, Bardlings - Freeform, Bodyguard, Bofur's pub, Bubble Bath, Business Owner Thranduil, Dancers, Drunk and Disorderly, Drunkenness, Dwalin - Freeform, Engagement Party, Engagement Sex, Expanded Universe, F/M, Feren is a bodyguard, Hangover, Holy smutballs Batman!, Hungover, Intense Orgasm, Jealousy, Joke Gifts, Legolas Greenleaf & Tauriel Friendship, Legolas is just like his dad, Mental health/depression, Mentions of Children of Shelob, Mentions of Shelob, Mentions of Ungoliant, Modern Era, Modern Middle Earth, New Job, Oral Sex, Pole Dancing, Post-engagement nookie, Same Sex Relationship, Smaug is the bad guy, Smoking, Stripper pole, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Tauriel/Kili child, Tauriel/Kili relationship, Thats a lot of smut, Thranduil misses his wife, Unconventional Families, Unplanned Pregnancy, Wednesday takes charge, bagginshield, bathing together, bilbo baggins - Freeform, talking about mental health, thorin oakenshield - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2019-06-26 10:30:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 56
Words: 144,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15661404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KayleighH2203/pseuds/KayleighH2203
Summary: Originally posted on Tumblr in 2014. Inspired by the video for Bonnie Tyler's "He is the King", set in a modern!au, Thranduil is lonely following Legolas’ abrupt departure five years ago and has begun to frequent a strip club called The Firehouse. There he meets a dancer named Wednesday who brings him out of the darkness. As he starts to rebuild his life and his relationship with his son, an old threat, Smaug returns, threatening to take away everything he holds dear.





	1. The King

Wednesday peeked out from behind the curtain. Her chest felt tight as she took him in. He looked perfect, like an angel fallen to earth. Just like the other girls had said. She bit her lip as she looked at him. It was her second week working at The Firehouse, a strip club in the town she had just moved to after losing her last job. The Firehouse used to have a reputation as a dive bar with ‘dancers’ who were more likely to spend their money on drugs and steal their patrons wallets than on their rent. But apparently, a year ago, this guy had started coming in. Within a week, the owners had sold up to someone new. Within a month, the bad crowd who had been coming to the club had ceased to come in, a new, more respectable clientele taking their place. Within six months, every dancer was exactly that, a dancer, trained and clean, who made the choice as to whether she removed any of her clothes or not. The patrons were still fairly generous even if the girls kept their clothes on. Wednesday hadn’t had the confidence to remove anything yet. Yet. But just the sight of this man had her wanting to change that. The man whose appearance had heralded the change at The Firehouse was known only as ‘Sir’ by the girls. He usually came in a once or twice a week, always seated in a booth by himself with a perfect view of the stage. He would sit there and have a few drinks before giving a very generous tip and leaving. He had been out of town for the past few weeks though, hence why Wednesday hadn’t seen him before. But he was a living legend amongst the girls.

He was gorgeous, plain and simple. He had long, blond hair that was tied back, beautifully chiselled cheekbones and piercing blue eyes framed by thick dark eyebrows. He was tall with long legs that were elegantly crossed underneath his table, dressed to perfection in a tailored black suit. His shoulders were broad, his hands large with long fingers that were currently turning the pages of his newspaper. It was almost nine o’clock at night and Ruby, the longest-serving and most popular dancer there, was bringing her A-game on the stage and he was reading a newspaper like he was in a diner at breakfast. Even Ruby removing her sequined top and throwing it so it landed directly next to him hadn’t pulled his attention. Ruby hadn’t even pretended not to be disappointed. Rumour had it, it was very rare for him to give more than the odd glance during a dancer’s performance. He usually had something to read with him or would be sitting with his phone in his hand during the night. He looked up, but not at Ruby. He looked directly at Wednesday making her gasp and release the curtain so it fell back into place.

She felt so nervous as she heard Ruby’s set come to a close. She pulled the curtain back a fraction to see Sir casually toss Ruby’s top back to her with an amazingly accurate aim given he was reading his paper again. Ruby stomped over to the curtain and burst through it so hard that her nipple tassels continued to shake long after she herself had stopped.  
“Damn that man!” she grumbled, wrestling to untangle to ties on her top, “I give him my best, and what do I get? ‘Good Evening Ruby’?! Grrr.” She stomped her heeled foot and looked at Wednesday.  
“Wednesday, sometimes that man can be an absolute cunt!” Ruby said, huffing, “But…still…damn, what would I give for one night with Sir.” She closed her eyes and smiled briefly.  
“He is the epitome of treat ‘em mean to keep ‘em keen,” she said, “Am I right, Gloria?” Gloria, a girl who had started working at The Firehouse three months before, nodded gleefully, her own wistful smile on her face. It seemed Sir had all the girls wrapped around his little finger.  
“Alright, Wednesday, you’re up next,” said Evan, one of the backstage guys who kept the girls on schedule, “Ruby, you can go sit down and we’ll give you a shout when it’s time for you to work the floor.”  
“What? No private dances tonight?” Ruby asked. Evan shook his head.  
“No,” he said, “But to be fair, the big guy didn’t even look up tonight. You can’t be that surprised.” That was another rumour Wednesday had heard about Sir. The number of requests for private dances a girl got was in direct proportion to how much attention Sir paid during her stage show. Wednesday swallowed nervously and fiddled with the short white skirt she wore.  
“You’ll be fine,” Evan said reassuringly, “Which song do you want to go with?”  
“Ccc…Crazy in love,” Wednesday found her mouth dry making it difficult to speak. Evan nodded and disappeared to tell the DJ.

Moments later, Mike the DJ’s booming voice sounded over the PA.  
“Please welcome onto the stage, Lily!” Lily was her stage name. All the girls were required to use them. Wednesday took a deep breath and stepped out through the curtain. Other than the music playing, all was silent around the stage as she began to walk towards the end of the stage. She looked around and noticed the familiar faces of the regulars, comforted by their smiles. There were some generous tippers in tonight. She glanced up to the front and felt her breath freeze in her chest. Sir was watching. His newspaper lay forgotten on the seat next to him. He was leaning back in the booth, a glass of something in his hand, his eyes fixed on her. She couldn’t tear her gaze from him until her hand touched the cold metal of the pole. She took hold of it with both hands, easily swinging herself around it. She had done this routine a million times, at first for fun as part of a pole-dancing class she had taken as a laugh, it had been her audition for the job and the routine she performed most nights. It was well-practised and always brought in the tips. She could do it without thinking these days. Which was good. Because she could feel Sir’s gaze boring into the back of her head as she performed. It left pinpricks of heat travelling up her back and for the first time, she felt like she wanted to take some of her clothing off. Dollar bills were beginning to pile up at her feet as she walked around the pole, swaying her hips in time with the music. She loved this song, Kadebostany’s version of Crazy In Love. In the dark club, with Mike’s expertise with the lighting, it was perfect. She came round to the front of the pole, leaning slightly back against it, bringing her hands up to her shoulders. Sir’s gaze was still fixed on her as she ran her hands down over herself before hooking her thumbs into the waist band. She swore she saw him lick his lips so she turned around, lowering the skirt slightly, revealing a white lace thong underneath for just a brief second before heaving herself onto the pole and spinning around it twice before landing in front of it on her knees. She leaned back again, running her hands upwards to the back of her neck, where the ties for her top were. Her fingertips were just about to pull them loose when…  
“Hey Lily!” the stage practically shook as a large, sweaty, drunken meathead tried to climb onto the stage, reaching out one hand to grab at her.

The music came to an abrupt stop as Mike and Evan leaped over the side of the DJ booth. Three security guys who were on the floor and Mike dragged the guy off the stage whilst Evan pulled her up onto her feet and ushered her back behind the curtain where Ruby and Gloria were waiting.  
“You ok?” he asked once they were out of sight, “I’m sorry, there’s always one asshole.”  
“No, I’m ok,” Wednesday answered, “Just made me jump a little.”  
“Ok, don’t worry about your set,” Evan said, gesturing to Ruby, “I’ll get Ruby back out there, she always calms them back down.” The door to the backstage area opened and Louis, the owner, appeared, looking more than a little flustered.  
“Wednesday, hon, are you ok?” he asked. She nodded.  
“What’s up?” Evan asked. Louis never came all the way back here, he trusted his dancers to know what they were doing. He only came in with feedback at the end of the night.  
“Wednesday has a request for a private dance,” Louis said, “From Him.”  
“No way!” Evan exclaimed before slapping his hand over his mouth.  
“What?!” said Ruby, “Sir has requested a dance? He never has a private dance.”  
“He was watching her whole routine,” Evan said.  
“This is definitely odd for him,” Louis said, “What do you say, Wednesday?”   
“I’ll do it,” she said.  
“Are you sure?” Louis asked, “He’s never had a private dance before so I don’t know if there is anything I need to warn you about.”  
“No, it’s fine,” she said, “He won’t hurt me.”  
“How can you know?”  
“I just do…”

*

She peered through the peephole of the door. He was sat there, alone on the couch, waiting for her. Her chest tightened as she looked at him…he was so beautiful, just looking at him was sending warmth coursing through her to pool between her legs. The girls set the rules for their dances. They decided how much they took off, what the patrons could and could not do, and right now, Wednesday was thinking there wasn’t much she wouldn’t stop him from doing. The only rule set for all of them was no sex, or at least no penetration anyway.  
“Fuck, he’s so hot,” Gloria whispered, taking a look through the peephole as Wednesday stepped away.  
“No, he’s beyond hot,” Wednesday said, “What is his name?” Gloria shrugged.  
“Don’t know,” she said, “One of the girls called him Sir once for a laugh and he never gave his real name so it kind of stuck. I think Louis knows, but he won’t tell. Shit…” Gloria stumbled away from the door.  
“What?” Wednesday hissed.  
“I…I don’t know, it’s like he could hear me,” Gloria whispered back, “He looked right at me.” Wednesday took a deep breath.  
“Wish me luck,” she said.  
“Go get ‘im, tiger,” Gloria said before trotting off on her high heels. Wednesday breathed out and pushed open the door.

Gloria was right, he was watching for her. She felt the pinpricks of heat that came with his gaze covering her face and chest and at the same time, she shivered. He was beyond hot, he was beautiful, ethereal even. When she had entered the room completely, he moved in his seat so he was leaning forward, his elbows on his knees.  
“I believe we were interrupted,” he said. His voice was surprisingly deep and sent hums of arousal through her. His eyes were hypnotic, drawing her in.  
“Yes,” she found herself answering, unable to break eye contact  
“So, where were we?” he said, leaning back with his arms on the back of the couch.  
“I…I was on my knees,” she said.  
“Yes, you were,” he said, a faint smile on his lips, “Be a good girl now.” Wednesday felt her knees bend of their own accord, bringing her to the ground. Her knees were parted just like they had been on stage.  
“What next?” he asked.  
“I…I was going to take off my top,” she answered, hands skimming up to her neck.  
“You’ve not done that before, have you?” he asked, “Answer me.”  
“No, sir,” she said.  
“Why tonight?”  
“I wanted to do it for you,” Wednesday said.  
“You were going to expose yourself for me,” he said, his eyes darkening. Wednesday nodded. His lips curled up more and he gestured to her.  
“Come on up here,” he said, “So I can get a closer look.”

Without even thinking, she scrambled to her feet.  
“May I touch you?” he asked. She nodded. He reached out, grabbing her wrists and pulling her closer to him until she had no choice but to climb onto his lap, straddling his legs. One of his hands went to the small of her back whilst the other slid from her knee upwards and under her skirt.  
“What is your name?” he asked, “Your real name?”  
“Wednesday,” she answered.  
“Wednesday,” he repeated, “Show me, Wednesday, show me what you were going to do on stage.” She leaned back, his hand supporting her weight easily as her hands slipped up to her neck. She took hold of the ties and slowly pulled. She watched his eyes scan down to her chest as the last of the ties was pulled free. The same intensity from when she had been on stage. She could almost hear the music playing again. Wednesday gave the loosened strings a final pull, sending the top cascading down to the ground. He groaned at the sight of her exposed flesh and his eyes closed. Wednesday seized her chance and began to undulate her hips against him.  
“Wednesday,” he growled out as she pushed herself back up, forcing him to lean back. His eyes raked over her body and up to her face. His hands settled on her waist as she began to dance in his lap for him. She could feel it, the hardened length pressing against her. His eyes half-shut and his head leaned back against the couch but his hands roamed over her, only letting go when she turned around to grind her bottom against his lap. He made low noises of pleasure as she continued the dance, at times even standing up and just swaying her body for him as he watched. He quickly pulled her back onto his lap where she continued the dance. A haze descended over her as his eyes bore into hers, almost like she was drunk. His long fingers skimming over legs, hips, stomach and breasts. She wanted more contact, she wanted his hands on her, his lips. She wanted everything all at once and to never stop. Time passed in a blur until she heard him speak.  
“Time’s up,” his voice was raw and heavy. She glanced up at the clock on the wall, seeing he had indeed had his time and then some. If she didn’t come out soon, Evan and Louis were going to come looking for her. But she didn’t want him to go.  
“Thank you for the dance,” he said, standing up and straightening his perfectly tailored suit, “I look forward to seeing you again some time.” He lifted up her top and handed it to her.  
“Thanks,” she said, as he began to leave, “Hey, what’s your name?” He paused at the door, glancing over his shoulder at her.  
“Thranduil,” he said, “My name is Thranduil.” He fastened the buttons on his jacket before pulling the door open and walking out.


	2. The King Returns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW, smut, all that good stuff

Wednesday groaned in frustration and slammed the hood of her car shut. She shivered as a fresh flurry of snow trickled down the back of her neck. Halfway home and the stupid thing had stopped working. She had checked the oil, water and gas before she had left home, but it was so old, it had probably shuffled off this mortal coil for good now. She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out her phone. The battery was dead. Perfect. She groaned again and kicked one of the tyres.

Unfortunately, her old worn sneakers offered little protection against frozen rubber. She hissed in pain, hopping on her uninjured foot until she slumped against the car. It was the middle of the night, the snow was coming down thick and fast and she had no way of getting home. She began to wish she had gotten changed before leaving work. The mini skirt and crop top were fine for driving in, but out in the cold, she might as well be naked. She pulled open the driver’s side door and sat on the seat, willing herself not to cry. She was exhausted. Sleep had eluded her for the past two weeks. She got maybe a few hours before she woke up, panting, from intense dreams of him. Sir…Thranduil he had said his name was. Since she had danced for him, her life had been a mess. She couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat and he hadn’t been in either. That man who was the very image of perfection, who had given her the confidence to strip, who had almost driven her mad with just his hands on her skin. She sobbed, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands. She just wanted to sleep, but he was in her dreams too. It didn’t help that just this morning she had gone for a job interview, a job as a dance teacher, teaching children ballet, her dream job. Only for the woman who was running the school to sneer and look down at her when she was truthful about her current employment. Wednesday had been told she was worthless and nothing more than a whore.

She heard a faint crunching sound of footsteps on the fallen snow and looked up, blinking away her tears.  
“Wednesday?” a deep, commanding voice spoke. It was him, Thranduil. She stood up as he walked over to her from the entrance of a nearby building, dressed in black pressed trousers and a deep purple-coloured shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. With his perfect face and long blonde hair, he looked like a guardian angel. Or a knight in shining armour come to rescue her.  
“What are you doing here?” he asked.  
“My car broke down,” she said, her voice breaking a little, “And my phone died.” She wasn’t about to admit that she was tired from intense dreams of him. He looked at the car and then around.  
“Come in with me,” he said, “You can’t stay out here, you’ll freeze. The snow is only going to get worse.” He extended a hand to her. She reached into her car and retrieved her purse before shutting the door and locking it. Thranduil still held his hand out towards her, so she took it. Warmth shot through her arm as his fingers closed around hers. She sighed a little as he pulled her in closer, releasing her hand and putting his arm around her shoulders. Instantly, she felt relieved, protected and safe in his presence. It felt like a weight had been lifted off her as he guided her into the building. It was warm in the lobby, but most of the heat seemed to be coming from him. He led her to the elevator, pressing the button for the penthouse.  
“How did you know I was down there if you’re in the penthouse?” she asked, not the least bit surprised he lived on the top floor. He hesitated for a second before answering.  
“I have access to the security camera on the front door,” he said, “I saw your car stop, and you looked like you were struggling. I didn’t realise it was you until I got down.”  
“It’s almost three in the morning, why are you awake?”  
“Working,” Thranduil answered as the elevator pinged and the doors opened. He stepped in and Wednesday followed.

She gasped when she saw the inside. A massive living room spread out before her with large couches and a coffee table covered in papers. A kitchen was to one side, boasting all the latest gadgets, though it looked little used. Stairs led up to where she guessed the bedrooms were. It was all elegantly decorated in black and different shades of grey. Definitely a bachelor pad, it lacked any inclination of a feminine touch but screamed his name.  
“Do you have anything warmer to wear?” Thranduil asked.  
“Err, no,” Wednesday said, “I was running late today.”  
“Give me a moment, I think I have something,” he said, “Make yourself at home, the coffee machine is in the kitchen.” He disappeared up the stairs. Wednesday dropped her bag at the side of one of the couches and walked over to the kitchen. A black coffee machine sat on one of the counters with a range of cups next to it. She picked one up and blanched. A cheesy ‘no. 1 Dad’ mug. She quickly put it down and grabbed a plain black one. She found the spout on the machine and pressed the button that said ‘latte’. When it finished pouring, she picked up the ‘Dad’ mug again. It looked old, well-used, the lettering was beginning to chip and fade.  
“Ah,” she turned around at the sound. Thranduil had returned, some clothes in his hand.  
“Oh, sorry,” she said, putting the mug down again.  
“Here,” he said. He handed a pair of sweat pants and a large t-shirt to her.  
“So, is that mug for real, or was it a joke gift?” she asked.  
“A bit of both actually,” Thranduil said, “My son thought it was funny.”  
“You don’t look old enough to have a kid,” Wednesday said. Thranduil laughed a little.  
“I’m older than I look,” he said, “My son is now a grown man. In fact, those are his.” He nodded to the clothes.  
“Oh, will he mind me borrowing them?”  
“Considering he hasn’t been here in five years, I doubt it,” there was a hint of bitterness in his voice and Wednesday suspected that father and son hadn’t parted on good terms.  
“What happened?” she asked, before she could stop the question escaping.  
“He and I had had a difficult relationship ever since his mother died,” Thranduil said, “And then there was a ridiculous falling out over a girl.” His fist clenched and he took a deep breath. Wednesday took a step back when she saw the muscles in his arm flex under the skin.  
“I have no idea why I’m telling you this,” he said, his voice sounded strained, “The girl…she was the daughter of a friend, I’d been taking care of her since her parents died. She and Legolas, my son, were close. I saw her as a daughter, and I thought Legolas saw her as a sister. I was wrong, very wrong.”  
“It’s ok, Thranduil,” Wednesday said, “I think I can guess the rest.” He let out a sigh of relief.  
“He called me some awful things before he left, and so did she,” he said, “They’re shacked up somewhere in California together I think. I’m not entirely sure.”  
“I’m sorry,” Wednesday said.  
“It’s fine,” Thranduil said, picking up the mug and smiling at it, “You can use the bathroom to change. Upstairs to the left.” Wednesday put her drink down on the counter and headed up the stairs.

The bathroom was equally as huge as the rest of the apartment. The shower and sunken bath were almost ridiculous in size until Wednesday’s imagination gave her an image of Thranduil taking her up against the wall of the shower, or over the edge of the bath. She wasn’t even surprised anymore. These were the sort of things that had plagued her both waking and sleeping since she had danced for him. She shucked off her coat and pried off her sneakers without untying the laces. She lost her balance on the second and tumbled to the floor with a cry.  
“Wednesday?” Thranduil’s voice was right outside the door a moment later. The door opened.  
“Are you alright?” he asked, rushing forward and helping her to her feet.  
“I’m fine,” she said, “I just lost my balance.” Her heart began to pound when she felt his warm hands on her skin. She looked up at him, bolts of heat coursing through her.  
“Are you sure?” his voice was low, husky. One hand began to slide upwards until it cupped her head, his fingers weaving into her hair. The look in his eyes seemed to be asking a different question.  
“Yes,” she said, “I’m sure.” His head dipped down and he pressed his lips to hers. Her hands grasped at his upper arms as his lips moved against hers, gentle movements that still made her head spin. She mewled slightly as his tongue teased the seam of her lips. She opened her mouth, allowing him in. He pulled back a few inches.  
“I wanted to do that the moment I first saw you,” he whispered.  
“Don’t stop,” Wednesday pleaded. With a moan, Thranduil dipped his head again and resumed the kiss, backing her up against the wall. It was cold but he was hot and so was his kiss. His hands slipped around her waist, his fingers caressing her skin.  
“Wednesday,” he whispered against her lips, “I…I want you…” Shivers ran down her spine as he spoke. He pressed against her, his hard length pressing into her stomach.  
“If you want me to stop,” he said softly, “Tell me now.” Wednesday looked him in the eye. Just the sight of him made her want to melt into a puddle.  
“I don’t want you to stop,” she said, unable to think about anything except about the fierce desire to have him inside her.

Thranduil lifted her up, encouraging her to wrap her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. He carried her out of the bathroom, pressing more intoxicating kisses to her lips and jaw. She didn’t realise he’d carried her into the bedroom until she felt the silk sheets on her skin as he lay her down on the bed. His lips burned against her skin as he pressed kisses down her neck, her fingers digging into his broad shoulders. She let out a soft sigh as he began to nip at her collarbone, his weight resting on his forearms.  
“Wednesday,” he whispered her name against her skin before pulling her to sit up. Her hands moved to the buttons of his shirt, quickly beginning to undo them.  
“So eager,” he chuckled as she lent forward to kiss and bite at his neck. His hands came up to her head, tilting it backwards to kiss her again as she ripped the last button open. Her hands ran up his smooth, muscular chest as he began to push down her skirt with one hand, caressing her back with the other. Wednesday kicked the skirt away when it made its way down to her ankles as Thranduil pushed up her top. He let out a low growl before kissing the underside of one breast. He teased, pressing his lips to her flesh in circles around her breast, drawing ever closer to the hardened peak but never actually touching it. Wednesday mewled in protest, hands fisting in his shirt, pulling on it.  
“Please,” she panted, “Please…Thranduil…” He pulled back and for a brief moment, she worried that he had changed his mind, come to his senses and realised that she was just some stripper from a club he liked to visit. Instead, he pulled off his shirt, tossing it on the floor with her skirt before pulling her into place on the bed. He moved her so she was laid out before him, legs open with him between them. Her long hair spread out on the bed covers. He leaned over her, his weight going onto his forearms as he nuzzled her breasts before taking one in his mouth. Wednesday inhaled sharply as the sudden heat covering her flesh as he sucked and teased with his tongue. Her hips jerked, rubbing against his throbbing length, earning a groan from Thranduil. He released her and pushed her top up over her head, leaving her in just her lacy pink underwear. Wednesday felt a sudden rush of shyness and moved to cover herself with her arms.  
“Don’t,” his voice was raw, just like it had been the night she had danced for him, “Don’t cover yourself…you are perfect.” He slid backwards on the bed and began to kiss his way up first one thigh and then the other, his hands lifting her knees up and over his shoulders. She shivered as she felt his fingers tracing along the edge of her panties before pulling them to one side. Her hands flew to his head as he began to tease and lick her centre, his tongue pushing deep inside her before moving up to flick the little bundle of nerves at the top. Wednesday’s legs began to shake as he delved deeper, his grip on her legs tightening. Muffled grunts sent vibrations up and down her body, sending her higher and higher into delirium until it all came crashing down, and Wednesday came with a cry.

He brought her down gently, slowing his ministrations until her breathing had evened out and her heart had stopped racing. He released her and began to crawl back up her body until he could see her face.  
“You’re exhausted,” he whispered softly.  
“I haven’t been sleeping well,” she confessed.  
“Sleep,” he said, “I’m not going anywhere.”  
“But…”  
“Sleep,” he repeated, “I’ll still be here in the morning, I promise.” He bent down and kissed her forehead, her eyes already beginning to droop closed.  
“You’re worth waiting for,” he said softly before pulling the covers from underneath her and covering her with them as her eyes drifted shut and she fell asleep.


	3. That First Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW  
> Smut, smut and more smut.

Wednesday woke with a start, realising that sun was streaming through the huge windows. She blinked, looking around, trying to remember where she was. Thranduil. She was in his apartment. He’d found her out by her broken down car the night before, brought her into the warmth of his home, given her warm, dry clothes and… She slumped back onto the bed, a smile on her face as she recalled him going down on her, lapping at her core as if he were a man dying of thirst and she was the only oasis in the desert. After making her come, he’d seen how tired she was, plagued by near constant dreams and visions of him, and he had tucked her up in his bed to sleep. Handsome, well off and a perfect gentleman to boot. 

She rolled over, finding him laid in the bed beside her. He was on his side, facing her, his eyes closed. She noticed that his torso was bare and took a moment to admire his muscular arms and chest, as well as his long neck before peeking under the covers. His long legs were encased in pyjama pants that had a noticeable bulge in the front. Wednesday smiled. It looked like Sir was a big boy all over.

She thought back to the night before. He’d wanted her, he could have pushed and asked for sex despite how tired she was. But he’d held back and she was going to reward him for that. She lay back down on her side, facing him. He was still sleeping, his eyes twitched beneath closed lids. She slid in closer to him and pressed a kiss to his jaw. He stirred slightly as she began to kiss down his neck and trail her hand down his chest, feeling the muscles tense at her touch. He let out a rough groan as her fingertips passed his navel and travelled downwards towards his pants. She nipped slightly at his skin as her hand reached his straining erection. He let out a moan as she grasped him gently through the soft material and began to stroke his length. She couldn’t see his face anymore, entirely too focussed on kissing and sucking on the skin of his neck but she was certain he was awake now.  
“Sir,” she purred, nuzzling his jaw. A throb ran through his cock in her hand and a low moan escaped his mouth.  
“Wed…Wednesday,” his voice quivered.  
“Sir,” she said softly again, “I don’t think we finished our dance the other night.” His arms shot out, enveloping her as he rolled onto his back.

Sitting up on his thighs she looked down at him. A red spot marked her attentions on his neck, his cock strained insistently against his pyjama pants. He reached over his head to the shelf built onto the back of the head board and pulled out a remote. He pressed a button and a moment later, the familiar notes of Wednesday’s favourite version of ‘Crazy In Love’ played through a speaker hidden somewhere. Wednesday smiled, leaning over and kissing him, a kiss he returned in earnest, his hands coming around to caress her back before pushing her lacy underwear down over her backside. With as much grace as she could manage, Wednesday slid the panties off and threw them onto the floor. Thranduil let out a low growl as she turned her attention to his pants. Rolling slightly to the side, she began to push them down, occasionally glancing back up to his face as she neared his shaft. Her fingertips grazed over him, earning her a little moan as she pushed the pants over his cock and down his thighs. Thranduil moved his legs and managed to shift the pants off himself, quickly pulling Wednesday back on top of him. She settled herself across his hips, his hot, hard length pressing against her bottom. She gave a little wiggle, making him moan more.

The beat picked up and she began to dance for him like she had that night in the club, but this was different. There were no inhibiting layers of clothing separating them. Dancing on his lap was so incredibly arousing, she could feel the rush of heat and wetness between her legs. His shaft ended up trapped between them, rubbing against her pussy, slowly getting wet. Thranduil’s hands ran over her, cupping her breasts and tweaking her nipples. Her little gasps of pleasure triggered throbs in his cock. She knew that if they kept this up, he was going to end up inside her. When she slid forward, his tip was already pressing insistently against her. She leant forward, resting her weight on her hands that she placed above his shoulders. She felt him press at her entrance. This was it. At this angle, with this level of arousal, he was just going to slip right in. And he did.  
“Ah, yes, Wednesday, yes!” he groaned as she impaled herself on his stiff cock.  
“Fuck!” was all she could muster as he filled her. He lifted his head from the pillow and began to tease one nipple with his tongue. His hips gave little flexes, rubbing against her clit and making her cry out. He pushed himself up until he was sat up with her in his lap, her arms around his neck.  
“Dance for me, Wednesday,” he growled, “And talk to me.” She moved against him, crying out at the sensation of him moving against her inner walls.  
“Ah, god!” she cried out, “God, that’s so good.” She lifted herself up a little before dropping back down.  
“Tell me,” he said, “Tell me what’s good.”  
“You…your cock inside me,” she whimpered as she moved again, “You’re so big.”  
“Tell me more,” he said, “Tell me everything, Wednesday. Do it, and I will make you feel wonderful. I will make those beautiful eyes roll back into your head in pleasure. You won’t be able to walk or sit down without the memory of me inside you. Gods, Wednesday, you’re so damn wet!” He kissed her hard, savagely, teeth grazing against her lips, his hands sliding over her to grip her ass and pull her tightly against him. She ground against him in time with the music as best she could with his fingers digging into her flesh. She could feel him throbbing inside her and whimpered.  
“Talk to me, Wednesday,” he growled again.  
“You…” she moaned, “You’re so hard, I…I can feel all of you.” He thrust upwards, striking her sweet spot. Wednesday threw her head back, moaning but not breaking her rhythm. Thranduil’s grip on her tightened as he thrust against her.  
“You feel so good,” she cried, “Right there…that’s it!”  
“I can feel you holding on to me so tightly,” Thranduil said, thrusting hard, hitting her spot again. Wednesday made a choked noise, freezing as her eyes rolled back.  
“That’s it,” he whispered, easing his hold on her, “That’s it, good girl.” He rolled them over so she was laid on her back. He began to rock against her gently, keeping the angle just right to stroke her sweet spot. Wednesday moaned and cried out incoherently as he began to kiss her neck, just below her ear. It sent jolts of pleasure through her, to feel his weight on top of her, his lips on her skin, his thick cock filling her.  
“I’m gonna…gonna cum,” she whispered.  
“Cum for me,” he replied, shifting himself slightly to move faster, “Cum for me, Wednesday!” She tensed and shuddered beneath him, her walls clamping down on him. Thranduil thrust hard and fast into her repeatedly until he suddenly pulled out, thrusting into the soft flesh of her belly, spilling himself there. Wednesday hissed in pain, it stung when he pulled out.  
“I’m sorry,” he whispered softly in her ear, “I should have warned you…I’m sorry.” He was panting from exertion, trying to keep his weight off her.  
“What a way to wake up,” Wednesday smiled. Thranduil kissed her, his hand cupping her cheek.  
“Definitely worth waiting for,” he said softly. He rolled to the side, bringing her with him to hold her against his chest. He ran his fingers through her hair.  
“I emptied your car while you were asleep,” he said, “The snow wasn’t stopping and I didn’t want anything irreplaceable to be stolen.”  
“How bad is it?” Wednesday asked.  
“The entire city is under at least a foot of snow,” Thranduil said, “Nowhere is opening today, I fear.”  
“I guess it’s lucky then that I ended up outside your building,” Wednesday said, playing with one of his platinum blond locks between her fingers.  
“Very lucky,” Thranduil breathed, “I think a shower is in order. And something to eat.” He pulled her in closer and kissed her again before rolling over again and climbing out of the bed, with her in his arms, her legs around his waist.

He walked to the bathroom and carried her into the large shower. Wednesday glanced briefly at the tub, remembering her little fantasy about him taking her over the side.  
“Oh, I have plans for that, my dear,” he said, his deep voice rumbling in his chest. He reached out and turned on the shower, blissfully hot water descending down over them. He lowered her so she was stood in front of him, his fingers running through her now soaking hair.  
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his hands sliding down her shoulders and arms. He bent down and kissed her, pulling her closer. His hands skimmed over her sides and round to her bottom. Wednesday pressed her hands to his chest, stroking his skin. She ran her hands over his shoulder and chest.  
“Thranduil,” she whispered as her hands skimmed down his toned abs.  
“Yes?” he said, his fingers flexing on her skin. His breath was shallow as her hands passed his navel.  
“I want you to do something for me,” she said, her fingers stroking his shaft which was half-hard already.  
“Anything,” he moaned.  
“I want you to take me,” she said, “Here, against the wall.” He scooped her up, pressing a kiss to her lips as he pressed her back to the tiled wall.

The cold from the wall made Wednesday gasp and arch her back. Thranduil lowered his head to tease one nipple, his tongue swirling over her sensitive flesh before drawing it into his mouth. She moaned and arched her back more.  
“I have dreamt of being here with you,” Thranduil whispered against her skin, “Taking you in the shower, in my bed, on my couch, in the kitchen, everywhere. I’ve wanted you everywhere…and now I have you.” One of his hands slid over the curve of her backside and his fingers stroked against her soft centre. Wednesday’s fingers dug into his shoulders as she felt him probing her, testing her.  
“So ready for me,” he moaned into her neck, “Yes, so hot and wet, all for me.” He altered the way he held her up, so his arms were hooked under her legs, his now full erection pressing against her. He ground himself against her, his arousal growing with every soft mewl of satisfaction that left her lips. He lifted her slightly and she felt his length pressing into her as he brought her back down. She cried out his name.

Thranduil rolled his hips against her, grunting every time she shuddered. The same confliction of temperatures as the night before threatened to overwhelm her senses. The icy cold of the tiled wall and the searing heat of the man holding her against it. The steam from the hot water filled the shower, keeping the rutting pair damp. Wednesday’s hands plunged into Thranduil’s hair, pulling on it as his fingers dug into her thighs. It was rough, hard and above all, pleasurable. Wednesday could feel every rush of excitement coursing through her and the shudders shaking Thranduil as he felt her arousal heighten. It wasn’t long before she felt the familiar build-up, heard Thranduil’s whispered command for her to let go. Her back arched as she felt herself let go, shockwaves of orgasm making her body tremble in his arms, flashes of white in her vision as she felt Thranduil throb and release inside her.

He brought her down gently, nuzzling and kissing her cheek until her eyes opened. His fingers that were sure to have caused bruises were now softer in their touch, small caresses that kept her grounded, bringing her back to him. He pulled out of her and stepped away from the wall before sitting on the built-in seat with her across his lap. His arms wrapped around her body, pulling her against him. His hands stroked and caressed her skin.  
“I’m sorry,” he said, “I meant to pull out…I couldn’t do it…”  
“It’s ok,” Wednesday said, her voice quiet, “I’m protected. You don’t need to worry.” He kissed her head gently.  
“I don’t normally do this…” Wednesday added, “Sleep with guys I barely know, in any sense of the word.”  
“Me neither,” Thranduil said, his hand stroking her hair, “I want to know you better.” Wednesday looked up at him.  
“Me too,” she said.

 


	4. The Couch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear there's plot, just got to work through the smut first.

Wednesday ran her hand through her hair as she followed Thranduil down the stairs. Dressed in just one of his shirts, she felt unbelievably sexy. She admired the muscles in his back as he moved with grace, dressed only in a pair of pyjama pants. Wednesday looked to the side and saw the huge windows that filled the room with pale sunlight.  
“You weren’t joking about the snow,” she said, “Are we going to be ok?”  
“Lucky for us, I just stocked up my pantry,” he said, “The fortunes of the city may rise and fall during this storm, but here in this apartment, we will endure.”  
“That sounded really weird,” Wednesday said.

“I know,” Thranduil answered, “I don’t know why I said it. So, do you like eggs?”  
“Love eggs,” Wednesday replied.  
“Scrambled, boiled, overeasy?”  
“So you’re rich, good-looking, a nice guy and you can cook?” she said, slinking her arms around his waist, “If my mother was here, she would tell me to marry you.” Thranduil smiled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.  
“Eggs?” he said.  
“Scrambled, please,” Wednesday said.  
“Perfect, I like them the same way,” Thranduil replied, “Salmon?”  
“I love salmon,” she said.  
“Go sit down, I’ll bring you some coffee,” he said, kissing her forehead. 

Wednesday grinned and headed into the living room, seating herself on the couch. It was unbelievably comfortable, she sighed and leaned into the cushions as she heard Thranduil moving around in the kitchen. The phone on the coffee table began to ring.  
“Could you answer that please?” Thranduil called from the kitchen. She reached forward and grabbed it.  
“Hello?” she said.  
“ _This must be Wednesday?_ ” said the male voice on the other end, “ _My name is Feren, could you please hand the phone to Thranduil._ ”  
“Okay,” Wednesday said, not sure how the guy knew who she was. She went into the kitchen and held the phone out to Thranduil.  
“Someone called Feren,” she said.  
“Interesting,” he said, taking it from her, “Keep an eye on the eggs for me.” He held the phone to his ear.  
“Feren,” he said, “You have news.”   
Wednesday looked at the eggs but could still hear Thranduil’s end of the conversation as she stirred.  
“Really? Where?” he said, “California, huh? Yes, it has been a long time. Any idea what for? Well, that’s very interesting. Yes, call me when you have more information.” 

There was a beep as he hung up. The phone was placed on the kitchen counter as he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her neck.  
“Good news?” she asked.  
“It was news, whether it was good or not remains to be seen,” he said, “Feren had news of my son.”  
“Do you want to share?” she said, as she stirred the eggs.  
“I think I need to, to make sense of it,” he said, “I told you it had been five years since I heard from him. Nothing at all, and then there was a blip a few days ago. He used their health insurance for the first time.”  
“Health insurance? Nothing serious, I hope,” Wednesday said.  
“For him, unlikely,” Thranduil said, “I think this was for the girl.”  
“The one he ran away with?”  
“Yes, the claim was for ultrasound scans and blood tests,” Thranduil said, “It would appear she is pregnant.”  
“You don’t sound too thrilled about becoming a grandparent,” she said.  
“Let’s just say Feren’s investigations have given him doubts,” Thranduil said, “I think the eggs are done.” He kissed her head and took the pan from the stove. The coffee maker beeped.  
“I’ll pour,” she said as Thranduil began plating up their breakfast.

 They ate their breakfast in the living room, sat on his impossible huge couch. His big screen TV was on the local news, most of the stories covering the snow storm that had covered the city. Wednesday laughed at some of the footage of the weather girl slipping on ice and falling on her ass. Thranduil just smiled at her when she did, she could see him out the corner of her eye. When she had finished eating and put her plate on the coffee table, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and brought her in close to him, resting his head on hers, his arm resting around her waist as they watched the rest of the news.  
“You should probably call Louis, so someone knows where you are,” he said softly, his hand caressing her curves beneath his shirt.  
“You’re right,” Wednesday sighed, “I probably should. Can I use your phone?” 

She made to stand up but froze at the feel of his hand high up on her inner thigh, his thumb grazing over her folds. She gasped as his thumb probed her gently.  
“Not just yet,” he groaned. He pulled her back onto his lap, she could already feel him hard and ready beneath the pyjama pants he wore.  
“You look too damn good in that shirt,” he groaned in her ear before kissing her neck. He spread her legs so they hung over the sides of his own.  
“I told you I dreamed about having you on this couch,” he whispered as his hand slid over her hips and drew small circles on her clit. Wednesday gasped and reached back over his shoulders to grip the couch.  
“So wet already,” he whispered again, one finger sliding into her. Her hips bucked into his hand, ready and wanting to be filled by him again. He lifted her up slightly so he could slide down his pants, his hard, leaking cock springing free. Wednesday whimpered at the sight.  
“Do you like it?” he asked, his lips grazing her ear as he reached down and stroked it in front of her.  
“Yes,” she whispered.  
“Say it,” he commanded.  
“I like your cock,” she sighed, “I like how it fills me, makes me feel good.”  
“And I love your cunt,” he grunted in her ear as he rubbed himself against her entrance. Wednesday didn’t wait for him to say anything more, instead she reached down and guided him into her. She cried out as her sore inner muscles worked to accommodate him as he filled her. Thranduil’s hands slid under the shirt and cupped her breasts, tweaking her nipples.  
“Fuck me,” he ordered, his voice raw and low in her ear, “Fuck me until you cum…if you can.”

With a little difficulty, Wednesday moved herself, shifting her legs so she was kneeling on the couch, her legs spread wide, and his throbbing cock still buried deep inside her. She balanced herself with her hands on his knees as she began to moving herself forward before dropping backwards.  
“Yes,” Thranduil groaned, the heel of his hand pressing into her lower back, forcing her down as far as she could, “Yes, that feels so good.” There was the sharp sound of flesh against flesh as she moved faster. It felt so good, to have him inside her, her controlling the rhythm, the speed, basically able to fuck herself senseless on his cock if she wanted. His warm hands slid to her hips, pulling her back in each time she moved forwards. She began to pant and whine as he came oh so close to her sweet spot. He knew where it was, all he had to do was move her a little and he’d find it again. She groaned in frustration as he missed it again.  
“What’s the matter, Wednesday?” he asked, his tone mocking, “Is something wrong?”  
“I…I can’t…” she groaned, “You’re so close, it’s right there.”  
“What do you want?” he asked softly, making her tremble in anticipation.  
“Please, Thranduil,” she begged, “Help me. Help me cum.”  
“I thought you’d never ask,” he said, she could almost hear his grin.

He wrapped an arm around her waist and heaved himself up. He spun round and put her back down on the couch on her knees, her hands gripping the back of the sofa. He nudged her legs apart before sliding back inside her.  
“Damn, you’re so wet,” he groaned as he steadied himself behind her and pushed the shirt up. He began plunging into her, the slap of flesh on flesh filling the air alongside their pants and moans. Wednesday couldn’t help but clench around him each time he buried himself to the hilt inside her, his balls tapping on her clit as he did.   
“Faster,” she panted, “Harder.”  
“As you wish,” he replied as he did as she asked. Harder and faster he went, not only hitting her sweet spot but sliding right over it and striking her cervix too.  
“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” Wednesday cried out, her mind clouding until she could focus on nothing but the intense pleasure running rampant through her.  
“I’m going to cum,” Thranduil grunted behind her.  
“Cum inside me,” she whined, “Please, Thranduil, inside me.”  
He grunted, his thrusts becoming erratic. His hand slipped underneath her and began circling her clit again until she cried out. Her body exploded inside with her orgasm, her pussy clenching tight around him as he stiffened behind her, pushing himself in deep as he came.

She panted, her head resting on the back of the couch, her limbs like jelly. Thranduil slid sideways, pulling her with him so she was laid out on the couch with him. He kissed her head.  
“Sorry,” he whispered, “I could tell you weren’t wearing anything underneath that shirt. I couldn’t resist.” Wednesday smiled as he nuzzled her hair.  
“I’ll call Louis when I regain the use of my legs,” she said, stroking a stray lock of his hair that lay across his chest, “You may kill my dancing career.” Thranduil chuckled as he wrapped her into his arms.  
“Well, then I would get you all to myself,” he said, “Remind me why that’s a bad thing?” He kissed her again as she laughed.


	5. Talk of lives past

Wednesday smiled as she counted out her tips for the evening, she’d never seen so many tens and even hundreds on a Thursday night before.   
“Girl, you are raking it in,” Ruby said from where she is sitting at the next dressing table, brushing out her elaborate hair.  
“I know,” Wednesday laughed, “I made nearly two months rent tonight!”  
“You’ve changed the last few weeks,” Ruby said, putting down her hairbrush, “Ever since that storm, everything seems…I dunno, different.”  
“I think there’s a guy involved,” chimed in Gloria from the other side of Wednesday, “She’s had this glow, and it’s so sexy, that’s why she keeps landing the big bucks.”

“So who is he?” Ruby asked, “Does he know what you do for a living? Where’d you meet him?” Gloria leaned in closer as Wednesday rolled up the money and hid it in a pair of socks.  
“I met him here, so yes, he knows I’m a dancer,” she confessed.  
“You’re dating one of those meatballs?!” Ruby snapped, jerking a thumb over her shoulder, “There is no way in hell, one of those dumbasses can make a girl smile like that!”  
“He’s not a meatball,” Wednesday said.   
“Were you with him when that storm hit?” Ruby asked, “Because I went by your place the day after and you weren’t there.”  
“Yeah, my car broke down and he helped me out,” Wednesday said, carefully avoiding mentioning Thranduil’s name.  
“And? You were gone for three days,” Ruby hinted, leaning in closer, “Was he good in bed?” Wednesday felt her resolve buckling, eager to share her new relationship with her friends.  
“Yes, he was good in bed,” she admitted, “And the shower, and on the couch. Oh and he cooks too.”  
“Does he have a brother?” Gloria asked, completely deadpan. Wednesday laughed.  
“I don’t think so,” she said, putting the last of her stuff in her bag, the socks with the money buried at the bottom.

She stood up and went to fetch her jacket. She could hear Ruby and Gloria scrambling to get their things together. It was just the three of them still, the two other girls sent home early after it died off at eleven. They left the dressing room together, waving goodbye to Louis who was arguing with the bartender about some tabs that hadn’t been paid. The parking lot outside was almost empty.  
“Do you need a ride home?” Ruby asked as they crossed to her car. A sharp whistle drew their attention. Evan was standing by a black sports car, a cigarette in one hand. He was talking to someone who was leaning against the car, but half in shadow.

They started towards the car and Evan when the other person stood up straight and in the light.  
“Thranduil?!” Wednesday said in surprise before she could stop herself. Thranduil looked to her and smiled.  
“Hello, beautiful,” he said softly. Wednesday couldn’t help but stare.  
“You’ve cut your hair,” she said, taking in the significantly shorter platinum hair.  
“I was advised that I look ‘too much like a hippy’ in the boardroom,” he said, “Do you like it?”  
“Honestly, no, but I don’t hate it,” Wednesday said, reaching up to brush her hand through it. Thranduil lowered his head slightly for her to reach.  
“Hold the damn phone!” Ruby finally spoke up, “This guy you met at work, who’s great in the bedroom and the shower and can cook is…Sir…Thranduil, whatever he’s called. Him?” Wednesday bit her lip as she nodded.  
“Do you have a brother?” Ruby asked Thranduil.  
“Do you have two?” Gloria added. Thranduil chuckled, his deep laugh echoing around the empty parking lot.  
“Sorry, only child,” he answered before turning to Wednesday, “I thought you could use a ride home.”  
“Well…” Wednesday started, turning to Ruby and Gloria.  
“Go, go,” Gloria said, “We’ll see you tomorrow night.” She linked arms and dragged away a reluctant Ruby whilst Evan watched with amusement. Evan stubbed out his cigarette beneath his boot.  
“See you tomorrow, Wednesday,” he said, “Try not to break her, pal.” Thranduil laughed again as Evan walked back into The Firehouse.

He unlocked the car and opened the passenger door for Wednesday. She slid in and sank into the plush leather seat. Thranduil got in next to her and started the engine. It purred beautifully, roaring past Ruby and Gloria.  
“So, I know a Thai place that’s open til four in the morning,” Thranduil started.  
“Actually, if you don’t mind, I just want to go home, please,” Wednesday cut him off, “I’m pretty tired. But if you’re hungry, I’ve got some food at mine, I’ll fix you something.”  
“You want to stay at yours?” he asked. Over the past three weeks, they had stayed at his whenever they had spent the night together. He’d only seen the outside of her building a few times when he’d dropped her off.  
“Yeah, I just want my own bed tonight,” Wednesday said sleepily, the smooth ride slowly lulling her.  
“That’s okay,” Thranduil said, reaching across and touching her hand.

She dozed for the next twenty minutes as Thranduil drove her home, only waking her up when he had pulled up in the lot behind her building. He followed her in, watching her sway on her feet as they climbed the three sets of stairs to her apartment. He had to give her door a good shove when it got stuck in the frame. The faint splashing sound when she stepped in did nothing to inspire confidence.  
“Oh, hell…” she muttered, turning on the lights. A thin layer of water covered the floor. Thranduil pulled his cell phone out and, looking under the sink, soon found the source of the leak. A badly leaking tap and pipe. He shrugged off his jacket.  
“Go get changed,” he said, “I can deal with this.” Wednesday looked at him as if he had grown another head.  
“Trust me,” he said. She was so tired, she shrugged and headed into her bedroom, stripping off and pulling on some comfortable pyjamas. She took her time, taking off the last of her makeup and tying her hair up.

When she came out, she found Thranduil with his shirt sleeves rolled up, mopping up the water.  
“You fixed it?” she asked, sounding more surprised than she realised. Thranduil nodded, wringing the mop out in the bucket.  
“Believe it or not, I’ve picked up a few tricks over my life,” he said as she opened the fridge and started taking out stuff for making some sandwiches.  
“Really?”  
“Yes,” he said, leaning back against the counter as she began to work, “When my wife and I were first married, I had an argument with my father. He cut me off and for a long time, we were on our own with nothing. I had to learn how to fix small things because we didn’t have the money to pay someone to do it for us. We lived in a tiny apartment just like this until Legolas was three.”  
“How did you manage to have three people living in an apartment this size?” Wednesday asked, glancing around. Whilst it was just about big enough for her, even just having Thranduil in the apartment made it feel cramped. Never mind having all the extra stuff having a baby would entail.  
“I slept on the couch when he outgrew his crib,” Thranduil said, “He and my wife slept in the bed. We saved every penny we could to get out of there.”

  
“Did you ever make up with your dad?” Wednesday asked as she cut his sandwich in half and put it on the plate.   
“Eventually,” Thranduil said, looking at his feet.  
“Sounds like something went wrong,” Wednesday observed.  
“I…” Thranduil hesitated as he took the plate from her and sighed.  
“You don’t have to tell me,” she said, cutting her own sandwich.  
“No,” Thranduil said, “If we’re going to have a relationship, I need to be open about my past.” He moved to sit on the couch. Wednesday followed and sat down next to him.  
“It was fifteen years ago,” Thranduil said, “Legolas was ten, eleven years old. My father had reached out, wanting to mend things between us, and get to know his grandson. We made some arrangements with some friends of ours who had grown up in the same area as us. I took Legolas, and their daughter Tauriel with me first. My wife had a doctor’s appointment the following day and would travel down with our friends afterwards.” He hesitated again, taking a small bite from his sandwich and chewing slowly before continuing the story.  
“You see, my company was starting to grow and expand,” he said, “And my wife and I had started talking about having another child, now we were more financially stable. It was my wife’s twelve week check-up the day she made the journey to Lake Dale, where we had grown up, where my father lived. She was so excited, we were planning to tell Legolas that night.”  
“What happened?” Wednesday said, feeling her blood run cold.  
“Some idiot had abandoned their car on a bend in the road,” Thranduil said, “It was dark, and raining. They didn’t see it until it was too late. I had spoken to her not ten minutes before it happened. She was gone, along with the life we had planned. I never told Legolas about his mother’s pregnancy, I couldn’t do that to him. He lost his mother, Tauriel lost both parents, I had to be strong and carry on for them. I fixed the bridges with my father, he was a great help in the months that followed.”

Wednesday put down her plate and pulled Thranduil into her arms. He rested his forehead against hers.  
“It all happened a long time ago,” he said, “The grief has lessened.”  
“You still suffered more than most people in one night,” Wednesday said, “And your father?”  
“He passed about seven years later,” Thranduil said, “Ill health, it was the reason he wanted to patch things up. I still own my family home at Lake Dale, right on the lakeside where you can see the sunrise over the mountains. I should take you there sometime. What about you? Where did you grow up?”  
“I’ve always been in a city of some kind,” she said, “Born and bred in them. I don’t think I’d do well with the quiet.”  
“And did you always plan on being an exotic dancer?” Thranduil said, grinning slightly.   
“Actually I always wanted to be a dance teacher, even when I was a little girl,” Wednesday said, “I’d love to have a studio and run dance classes. Ballet and jazz for children, ballroom for couples, maybe even some pole dancing for disillusioned housewives wanting to put a bit of spice back in the old love life.”  
“What happened?” Thranduil asked, “You make it sound like your dreams were put to an end.”  
“My mother left when I was nine,” she answered, “She took all the family savings with her, the savings that were meant for me and my future. I worked hard though, from my very first job, trying to recoup it, but my dad had a stroke when I was twenty and I had to use my savings to help care for him. He died last year, another stroke.” Thranduil’s hand lifted up to stroke her hair.  
“I’ve kind of jumped from job to job since,” Wednesday admitted, “Eventually moving here, to a completely different city, fresh start and all that. Almost thirty and no closer to my dream job than I was ten years ago.”

She took another bite of her sandwich and Thranduil did the same, eating in silence. Wednesday felt good for talking about her past, and she felt more connected now she knew more about his. She felt a slight relief that she was a few years older than his son as well.   
“So,” she said when she had finished eating, “Tauriel, that’s the girl Legolas took off with?” Thranduil nodded.  
“Did Feren find out anything else about the health insurance thing?” she asked.  
“No,” Thranduil said, “Save that they appear to have left California.”  
“Do you think they’re coming back here?”  
“Perhaps,” Thranduil said, “If Tauriel is pregnant, it may have scared them and driven them home, to somewhere that feels safe.”  
“You still don’t sound convinced,” Wednesday said.  
“Let’s just say, Feren suspects Legolas wasn’t the only man around Tauriel,” Thranduil said. His tone told her that was the end of the discussion, and not to probe anymore.

Wednesday nodded and picked up their empty plates, taking them into the kitchen area and putting them in the sink.  
“Thanks for fixing that leak for me,” she called over her shoulder.  
“I’ll be talking to your landlord in the morning,” Thranduil said, “What’s the name?”  
“Lobson,” Wednesday said, “But good luck getting him to do anything. He’s an old miser and won’t spend a penny if he can get away with it. That’s why the rent is so cheap.”  
“I’ve had some dealings in property,” Thranduil said, “I know a slum when I see it. If he’s such a miser, I’m sure he’d rather pay to get things up to scratch than face a long, lengthy court battle with his tenants.”  
“No one in this building has that kind of money,” Wednesday said, “That’s why we rent off Lobson.”  
“But I happen to be on the committee of a charity that helps struggling tenants,” Thranduil said.  
“Perhaps then,” Wednesday said, watching him closely. She didn’t want his money.

She had made the mistake of expressing worry after the storm about covering her rent. Thranduil had offered to pay it for her, but she had flat out refused. She wasn’t desperate enough to accept charity just yet. She preferred to work hard for what she wanted and had danced her arse off for a week solid to scrape back what she had missed out on over her snowed in weekend with Thranduil. She had even gone as far as taking a Tuesday lunchtime at The Firehouse just to scrape together enough for her grocery shopping that week. She almost shuddered at the thought. That had just been depressing. She was glad to get back to her usual rotation of Wednesday through to Saturday.   
“I think it’s time for bed,” Thranduil said, taking her hand, “You look almost ready to sleep where you stand.” Wednesday smiled and let him lead her to her bedroom. She climbed under the covers whilst he shrugged off his shirt and pants before joining her. She sighed contently. She may live in a crappy apartment and dance for money, but just having Thranduil there, wrapping her up in his arms was worth it. He had opened up to her and she to him.

*

She woke early the next morning, sliding out of Thranduil’s arms and ready to start her day. Still in her pyjamas, she brewed herself a cup of tea before beginning her cleaning routine. She cleaned her kitchen and was just dusting around her crappy little TV when Thranduil emerged, stretching, still only dressed in his boxers.  
“Morning, gorgeous,” she said, admiring the definition in his muscles.  
“Coffee,” he grunted.  
“I’m out, I’m afraid,” she said, “I’ve got tea, but if you can wait ten minutes, there’s a lovely little coffee shop a few blocks away. We can go there.” Thranduil grunted and disappeared into the bathroom. Wednesday smiled and carried on with her routine. She was just finishing off when she heard the water start running in her shower. The bathroom door opened and Thranduil’s head appeared.  
“Care to join me?” he asked, a mischievous look on his face, his hand reaching out to her. She set down her cup and followed him into the bathroom.

An hour later, they were walking down the street, wrapped up against the cold weather, Thranduil’s hand closed around hers.  
“Is it much further?” he asked.  
“No, it’s just on the corner,” she said, “It’s a beautiful little café and bookstore in one, and the owner is a lovely guy. It’s called Bag End.”  
“Interesting name,” Thranduil said as they reached the corner. Wednesday pushed open the door and a bell jingled somewhere in the back. She walked up to the cherry-wood counter that ran down the middle of the room, displaying various books, CDs and baked goods with Thranduil close behind her.  
“Well, well, well,” a deep voice drowned out the soft music playing in the background, “Thranduil Elfking.” Thranduil turned in the direction the voice had come from.

Sat at the far table sat a man with dark hair and a close cropped beard.  
“Thorin Durinson,” Thranduil said carefully, moving to stand in front of Wednesday as Thorin stood up.  
“You remember my cousin, Ori,” Thorin said, indicating the young man sat opposite him who glanced over his shoulder.  
“Vaguely,” Thranduil answered.  
“He’s helping me write my memoirs,” Thorin said, “In exchange for my paying his college tuition.” Thorin stepped out from the table and approached them. Thranduil’s arm locked around Wednesday’s waist, pulling her in close.  
“I haven’t seen you since your father’s funeral,” Thorin said.  
“You’re a long way from Lake Dale, Durinson,” Thranduil changed the subject quickly. Wednesday kept her gaze down. She couldn’t tell if this was just playful banter between the two or genuine animosity.  
“Ori is attending college here in the city,” Thorin said, “And the owner of this place is a friend. Ah! Bilbo!” Wednesday looked over and saw Bilbo, the owner, had appeared.   
“If I remember correctly, Thranduil here will have an Americano,” Thorin said, watching Thranduil carefully, “And…forgive me, I don’t believe I have been introduced to the young lady.”  
“Wednesday,” she said, extending a hand.  
“Thorin Durinson,” Thorin said, giving her hand a gentle shake, “What you will be having?”  
“Hot cocoa, please,” she answered quietly. Thorin nodded to Bilbo and then reached into his pocket. Thranduil opened his mouth to speak.  
“Now, Thranduil, what kind of man would I be if I didn’t buy an old friend and his companion a drink?” Thorin cut him off and handed some money to Bilbo who was looking between the two as nervously as Wednesday felt.

“Um, Thorin,” Ori squeaked as he got to his feet, “I’ve got to get going, I’ve got a class starting soon.”  
“That’s fine Ori,” Thorin said, not turning to look, “I will see you next week. Oh, and if I find out you have gone to another frat party, you and I are going to have to have an uncomfortable conversation next semester. Am I clear?”  
“Yes, Thorin,” Ori said, picking up his bag and coat and hurrying out the shop.  
“Well,” Thorin said, “I had best be off. I will see you in two weeks, Thranduil. At the City’s Children’s Charity Ball.”  
“Yes,” Thranduil said, his whole body going stiff.  
“And, hopefully, I will be seeing you as well, Wednesday?” Thorin asked.  
“Um…”  
“Of course,” Thranduil said, “She’s picking out her gown today.” Thorin grinned.  
“See you around, Elfking,” he said.  
“Durinson,” Thranduil said.

He let out a huge sigh of relief as Thorin left the shop.  
“Well, that was uncomfortable,” Wednesday said, looking up at him, “How do you know him?”  
“We grew up together,” Thranduil said, “Our families were next door neighbours. We even worked together for a time, but we were never really friends. Too competitive with each other.” He guided her over to a table.  
“So what was this about a ball?” Wednesday asked as they sat down.  
“Sorry,” Thranduil said, wincing, “I’m always on edge around him. I was going to ask you if you wanted to come with me today. Would you like to?”  
“I’d love to,” Wednesday said, smiling, “I’ve never been to a ball.” Thranduil laughed nervously.  
“Thank you,” he said, leaning back slightly as Bilbo came over with their drinks, “It means a lot to me. It’s nothing too big, a charity dinner with a bit of dancing.”  
“Well, we know I can dance,” Wednesday said, lifting her cocoa, “This will be fun.”


	6. The Dress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut. You have been warned!

Wednesday stared at her reflection in the mirror. Was that really her? That woman in the glass, dressed in the designer gown, was it her?  
“Wednesday? Is everything alright?” Thranduil’s voice was muffled by the dressing room door.  
“Fine,” she replied with a shaky voice, “Everything is fine.” She stared at the reflection more. The dress was stunning. A floor-length, off the shoulder black number made with silk and chiffon. It looked classy, elegant and with just a hint of cleavage. Classy and elegant. Two words Wednesday never though she would use to describe herself while she was still working at The Firehouse.  
“So, have you made a decision?” Thranduil asked. Whilst her voice had been shaking, his was steady, though he sounded a little bored. She couldn’t blame him. She had been in here a good forty-five minutes, trying on various different dresses of varying styles, colours and fabrics. And this wasn’t the first store they had been in. But this dress, this was the one.

When she had started dating Thranduil, she had promised herself she would never take his money. She had used her savings to fix her car, they had spent nights in at his apartment rather than him taking her out for fancy meals at expensive restaurants. In fact the only reason she was accepting this dress that he was so generously paying for was because they had been caught off guard by his old friend, Thorin Durinson, and Thranduil had accidentally said that Wednesday would be attending a charity event. She didn’t own anything suitable for the society they would be mixing with and Thranduil had put her on the spot, the dress was an apology, and it was only designer at his insistence. Wednesday was happy to peruse the more affordable stores for something, but Thranduil had put his foot down.  
“Yes,” Wednesday replied, shrugging out of the dress.  
“And?”  
“The Jenny Packham,” she said, putting the dress back on its hanger.  
“The black one?”  
“Yes,” Wednesday said, smiling as she pulled her jeans back on.  
“Can I see?”  
“No!” Wednesday laughed pulling her sweater back on, “You’ll have to wait. I’ve got to get home and get ready for work soon.”  
“But I don’t want to wait two weeks to see you in it,” he whined. Wednesday wanted to laugh. From being uncomfortably stiff and awkward in the coffee shop around Thorin, he was like a horny teenager now, eager to see her in some sort of sexy outfit.  
“Two weeks,” she managed to say as she pulled her boots back on, “Be a good boy and I promise, what I wear underneath the dress will be far more interesting.” Her offer was met with silence for a moment.  
“Fine,” he said, his voice low and rumbly, “But you had better hold up your end of the bargain.” Wednesday stood and picked the dress up. 

She opened the door and found Thranduil with one hand on either side of the door frame, leaning in. She let out a little gasp of surprise as he stepped in, forcing her backwards. He reached down and took the dress from her hands, hanging it back up on the hook.  
“What are you doing?” Wednesday asked as he shut the door. He pulled her into him and kissed her deeply, tongue slipping along the seam of her lips.  
“What if the assistant…” Wednesday whispered, recognising the hungry look in his eyes as he leaned back in for another kiss.  
“She’s the other side of the store, with a very demanding customer,” he replied softly, “And if you keep quiet, she’ll be none the wiser.” He kissed her again, pushing her back up against the wall, pinning her wrists to it. His hips pressed into her and she could feel his hardness pressing into her stomach. He released her wrists, his hands slipping down her arms and torso to the edge of her sweater. His hands slipped underneath the sweater and moved upwards to cup her breasts, his thumbs catching the top of her bra and pulling it down. She whimpered into the kiss as he rolled her nipples with his thumbs, her arms moving round his neck. His hands left her breasts and moved to her jeans, unbuttoning them and pulling them down. He got them down as far as her boots before turning her around. 

He pulled her hair to one side and pressed biting kisses to her neck and ear.  
“Why?” Wednesday asked as she heard his zipper lowering.  
“I’ve never had this opportunity to fuck you so close to you going to work,” he whispered, “I want to give you something to think about.” She bit her lip as his member teased her folds.  
“When you’re up on that stage tonight,” he said softly, “I want you to only be thinking about me.” He pressed into her. Wednesday pressed her forehead to the wall as she felt herself stretch around him.  
“I want you to think about how much I fill you,” he whispered in her ear as his hands held her hips, “What it feels like when I do this.” He rolled his hips, making her gasp.  
“What it feels like with me inside you,” he said before thrusting again, “How it feels when I fuck you.” He began to piston his hips, pressing her against the wall as he thrust hard.  
“You feel so good,” he whispered in her ear, taking one of her hands in his, “So hot, and wet. Just fucking perfect. Like you were made for me. Like you’re mine.” He drove into her with renewed force after each sentence, making her toes curl inside her boots.  
“You’re going to look amazing,” he whispered to her, “Up on that stage, freshly fucked. I want you up there, knowing I’m watching you. That I’m thinking about this. I want you up there, dancing for me, full of my cum.” Wednesday felt her body shatter at those last few words and let out a short cry before clamping her mouth shut as Thranduil let out a grunt and a groan. She felt the hot rush of his orgasm filling her and let out a deep breath she hadn’t realised she had been holding.

It took a moment for her to remember where she was and then she had to fight laughter. She’d never had sex in a public place before, much less the dressing rooms of a designer store. Thranduil was pressing hard kisses along her exposed neck. She could feel the warm skin of his stomach pressing against her bottom.  
“I’ve never done that before,” she said softly. Thranduil kissed the back of her head, one hand reaching up to stroke her hair.  
“Neither have I,” he said, “But I wanted to leave my mark on you before you went off dancing for other men, to tell them you’re mine.”  
“Mark?” Wednesday said, one hand moving to where he had been kissing her neck.  
“No hickeys, I promise,” he said, covering her hand with his own, “I just left my mark inside you, my scent on your skin.” He began to pull out of her, making her wince, more at the loss than anything.  
“You’ve never wanted to fuck me before I went to work before,” Wednesday said as he stepped away to straighten himself. She bent down  and began to pull her jeans up, but not before feeling the slippery sensation as some of his cum dripped onto her thigh.  
“What can I say?” Thranduil said, running his fingers through his hair to straighten it, “I was feeling possessive.” He waited until she had made herself presentable before taking the dress she had chosen off the hook and opened the door for her, back to being the perfect gentleman once more.

*                        

He had been right. All Wednesday could think about that night was about their sex in the dressing rooms, surrounded by the beautiful designer gowns.  
“Honey, you are away with the fairies tonight,” Gloria said as Wednesday found herself off in reverie again.  
“She’s thinking about Sir, I know she is,” Ruby said as she readjusted the straps on her shoes. The three of them were going to be performing on stage at the same time, a routine they had been working on for a few days now.  
“I can’t help it,” Wednesday said, “I…” She clamped her mouth shut.  
“Wednesday, you can talk to us about your love life,” Ruby said as she sat up straight, “And your sex life. Remember, we work in the industry? We feed men’s fantasies, because apparently they can’t exist without sex. So spill, what did you and…Thranduil…do.” She grimaced at saying his name. It wasn’t sitting well with her. Wednesday sighed and smiled.  
“Two hours ago, he fucked me up against the wall in a dressing room filled with designer gowns,” she said. Gloria’s jaw dropped and Ruby slammed down her hair brush.  
“Hold the fucking phone!” Ruby said, “You two did the nasty in a public place?! Wednesday! What happened to the sweet, innocent woman I knew?”  
  


“She started fucking Sir, that’s what happened,” Gloria said, “Two hours ago? But honey, you wouldn’t have had a lot of time to shower and..”  
“I didn’t have time to shower,” Wednesday said, “And he said that was the point. He wants me up there dancing with…” She trailed off and blushed at the thought.  
“Ok, he said no brothers, I’ll settle for young uncles, cousins, distant fucking relations, I want one,” Ruby said, picking up her hair brush and pointing it at Wednesday who laughed.  
“Seriously?” Ruby said, “In a dressing room? Damn. Don’t lose him, whatever you do. What were you doing in a room full of designer dresses anyway?”  
“Shopping,” Wednesday said, “He’s invited me to some charity thing in two weeks, kind of sprung it on me. He offered to buy me a dress for it which is why we were there in the first place.”  
“I hate you so much right now,” Ruby said, glaring at Wednesday before smirking playfully. Wednesday grinned. She certainly felt lucky.

The door that led from the dressing room to the backstage area and Tiana, the new girl, breezed in.  
“Girls, you’re up in five,” she said, “I don’t know who the tall guy in the booth is, but damn!”  
“Does he have short blond hair and a ridiculously sexy neck?” Gloria asked. Tiana nodded as she sat down.  
“Yeah, that’s Sir, and he’s Wednesday’s,” Gloria said, pointing at Wednesday.  
“Wednesday’s what?” Tiana asked.  
“He’s her man,” Ruby said, “And the reason I’m not talking to her…seriously? Sex in a dressing room?!” Wednesday laughed as she checked her makeup one final time. She stood up and led Gloria and Ruby out.

She was a little nervous, having never performed with the other girls before. But they had been practicing for a while, and barring any sweaty meatballs trying to get on stage, it should all go off without a hitch. It had been fun, coming up with a routine with them, and knowing Thranduil was in the audience just made her heart race a little bit more.  
“Please welcome on stage,” Mike’s familiar voice sounded on the other side of the curtain as they took up their positions, “Lily, Red and Angel.” The familiar intro of Fifth Harmony’s Worth It started and they stepped through. The usual sea of faces spread out in front of them as they started to dance, but Wednesday’s gaze was fixed on one in particular. Thranduil, sat in his usual booth, a glass of something amber-coloured in front of him. His blue eyes locked on hers as she began to shake her hips in time with Gloria and Ruby as the patrons began to cheer. He smirked at her as she bent forward a little, showing off her cleavage. She sent him a quick wink before she joined the other two in swinging around their respective poles. There was a brief pause as Ruby went solo for a moment. Wednesday was supposed to stand with her back to the audience. She glanced back over her shoulder. He was watching intently, his eyes constantly raking over her. He licked his lips and shifted in his seat. Wednesday smiled as she turned back. She had seen a familiar looking bulge in his pants.

Ruby finished her solo dance and all three stepped to the front of their poles, looking out over the crowd for a second before reaching behind their necks and tugging on the strings. Their tops dropped to the ground in near-perfect unison. Loud cheers rocketed around the crowded room as all three flipped their hair back over their shoulders. The larger bills started hitting the floor at their feet as the girls continued their dance. Thranduil was smiling, almost making Wednesday shudder. It was a smile that promised that what they had done in the store was just an appetizer for what he had planned for her that night. She could almost feel his hands on, smoothing down over her breasts and stomach. He was promising something fire-hot for her later. There would be nothing gentle. Like their earlier dalliance, it would be rough and intense. Her heart fluttered in anticipation as she turned back to the pole, the cold metal feeling wonderful against her heated skin. If this was anything to go by, she would let him fuck her before work as often as he wanted. The girls ended the dance dropping to their knees as the lights dropped. The crowd cheered, unable to see the girls quickly gathering up the notes on the floor before slipping back through the curtain.

“That was amazing!” Gloria squealed as the music started up again, “Look at all this!” She held up her hands, at least three one hundreds visible.  
“I know,” Wednesday said, joining Gloria in a little jumping in a bid to use up the adrenaline coursing through her.  
“The crowd loved it,” Ruby said as they began to make their way back to the dressing room, “And I think Wednesday enjoyed the thorough eye fucking she got.”  
“What?” Gloria asked.  
“He didn’t take his eyes off her the whole time,” Ruby explained, “I swear, Wednesday, you are going to be coming in with bruises tomorrow. The good kind though.”  Wednesday grinned as they arrived back at the dressing room and began to sort through their tips. They had agreed to split it all four ways. A quarter each, and the final quarter to be split amongst the security guys. Louis the owner had been nervous about having all three of them on stage at the same time and called in extra help in case the crowd got rowdy. A knock came at the door.  
“Come in,” Ruby called after a quick glance around. The girls were all pretty much covered up. Evan’s head appeared.  
“Wednesday, you got a call for a dance,” he said.  
“Who from?” she asked, hoping he was going to say it was Thranduil.  
“I don’t know,” Evan said, “He’s only been here a couple of times before.”  
“Oh,” said Wednesday, a little saddened.   
“Oh, He had to go,” Evan said, picking up on her tone, “Some kind of emergency. But he said he’ll be back later to pick you up.” Wednesday smiled a little.  
“Ok, Evan, I’m just going to freshen up and I’ll be right out,” she said.

*

The man sat waiting for her was not as impressive as Thranduil. He was a little shorter with a slighter build. His hair was more of a golden colour and he had dark stubble around his jaw. There was something vaguely familiar about his nose and chin, like she had met him or someone in his family before. She felt none of the same sensations she had felt the first time she had met Thranduil, the first time she had dance for him. She sighed and pushed open the door. The man looked up, his eyes locking on her instantly.  
“Well, hello there,” he said, “You’re even prettier up close.”  
“You got a name, honey?” Wednesday asked.  
“Fili,” the man replied.  
“Well, Fili, what would you like?”  
“Whatever you recommend,” he said, “This isn’t something I do a lot of.” Wednesday chuckled as she moved in front of him. His eyes remained locked on her and she was reminded of a lion stalking it’s prey.  
“They all say that,” she noted, “So, shall we begin?”  
“Yes please,” he said.

Wednesday began to sway her hips in time to the music playing in the background, stepping closer to Fili who leaned backwards as she climbed onto his lap. She tried not to let it show on her face how…disappointing this dance felt compared to when she had danced for Thranduil. It felt more mechanical, like she was just going through the motions. There was none of the excitement, no arousal, no drunk-like haze clouding her brain. As much as Fili seemed to be enjoying it, and boy was he enjoying it, it felt like work for the first time. She tried to take it up a notch, but even hearing the lust-filled moan from her client did nothing for her. ‘At least,’ she thought, ‘It’s just a dance. I’d be a shit hooker!’   
“No, wait, stop!” Fili said suddenly, hands flying out and grabbing her waist. She stilled in time to feel the deep throb beneath her.

Next thing she knew, she had been pushed aside on the couch and he was storming out. When she had a moment to collect herself, she stood up and followed him out. He was already gone but Louis was on his way towards her.  
“What happened?” he asked, “Did you say something?”  
“No,” Wednesday said softly, “I just danced for him. But I think he came.” She bit her lip, trying not to laugh.  
“From a lap dance?” Louis said. His face may have looked professional, but Wednesday could see the glint in his eye that told her he was trying not to laugh too.  
“I may have tried a little too hard,” she admitted.  
“Well, he paid beforehand, so no loss there,” Louis said, “You’re back on in fifteen minutes.”

*

Thranduil didn’t find the story of came-too-soon as funny. In fact he was in a distinctly sour mood the entire drive back to his place. When he pulled into his parking space, he sat quietly for a moment, his head in his hand.  
“Look, Thranduil, as long as I’m a dancer, you’re going to have to accept that I have to dance with other guys,” Wednesday said, now annoyed with him.  
“It’s not you,” he said, “Or your job. I’m mature enough to accept what you do for a living, you were doing it before we got together. It’s….”  
“What is it then?” Wednesday asked, “Because you seemed fine before I mentioned the lap dance.”  
“I got called away, because Feren found something about my son,” Thranduil said, “I was trying to hide it. But hearing you talk about that other guy made me jealous, that it wasn’t me getting the dance. I couldn’t handle both.”  
“Thranduil, you want a dance, you can have one,” Wednesday said, “You get as long as you want, and all for free too. That dance tonight, was work, and not particularly enjoyable either! With you, it’s fun, and it’s sexy as hell. So don’t start getting all jealous of nobodies at The Firehouse.” Thranduil was silent for a moment, staring at the steering wheel.  
“You’re right,” he said quietly, “But until this whole mess with my son is resolved, do you think we could leave your work at work?”  
“I suppose,” Wednesday said, feeling a little put down.  
“You can still talk about the girls, and Evan, and Louis and the others,” he said, “I just don’t want to hear about you giving other men private dances. It’s enough knowing that you give them.”  
“Fair enough,” she agreed, “Do you want to talk about your son?”  
  


“He’s off the radar again,” Thranduil said, “Feren lost track of him somewhere in Nevada.”  
“Well, that’s more this way than California,” Wednesday said, “You really think he’s coming home?”  
“He could be,” Thranduil said quietly, “Feren was able to send me a surveillance picture.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket, swiping one finger across the screen to unlock it. A slight blurry picture appeared on screen and he handed it over. Wednesday looked carefully. Two people were on the picture. One was a tall guy with longish blond hair, more yellow that Thranduil’s, but his face held similar dark eyebrows.  
“That’s your son?” she asked.  
“Yes, that’s Legolas,” Thranduil said quietly.  
“He looks a little like you,” Wednesday said, “But he must more resemble his mom.”  
“He does,” Thranduil said, smiling a little, “He always has.” Wednesday turned her attention to the second figure. A slim woman with red hair.  
“And this must be Tauriel,” Wednesday said, recalling the name, “She is definitely pregnant.” In the picture, Tauriel’s stomach showed a slight bump, but it was more in the way her hands rested around it, protectively.   
“She is,” Thranduil said, “Feren thinks they were meeting someone in Nevada, but he lost track of them. That picture was all he was able to get.”  
“It’s going to be ok, Thranduil,” Wednesday said, handing the phone back, “They’re going to come home someday.”  
“You won’t leave me if I’m a grandfather, will you?” Thranduil asked, looking at her.  
“No,” Wednesday said, shifting closer to kiss his cheek, “That’s the beauty of grandchildren. You get to give them back at the end of the day.” Thranduil laughed softly at the thought, looking down at the phone.  
“This is the first time I’ve seen his face in five years,” he said, “It’s a start.”

 


	7. Smaug

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some plot (finally!) and some NSFW stuff in this one.

Wednesday sipped her champagne as she looked around the crowded room. They were in the largest ballroom in the fanciest hotel in the city. She was all dolled up, in a gorgeous Jenny Packham dress, her hair coiffed to perfection, her makeup carefully applied and a gorgeous set of antique silver jewellery decorating her neck and ears. Her free hand was clutching Thranduil’s elbow as they walked down the steps into the ball room.  
“Still nervous?” Thranduil asked softly as they reached the bottom. Wednesday had been struggling with nerves for the past week, and he had noticed. He had tried to reassure her as best he could, promising not to stray from her side if she didn’t want him to.   
“A little,” she replied.  
“You look stunning,” he said, “And you will be fine.” Wednesday took another sip of her champagne.

“Thranduil!” A voice called, “Elfking! Over here!” A man emerged from the crowd, an older man with grey hair and short beard. He wore a grey tweed three piece suit with a pale blue shirt and carried a cane in one hand.  
“Gandalf,” Thranduil said politely, “A pleasure to see you again.” Wednesday released Thranduil’s arm so he could reach out and shake the man’s hand.  
“Gandalf Grey, allow me to introduce my companion, Wednesday Mc Queen,” Thranduil said, gesturing towards Wednesday.  
“A pleasure, my dear,” Gandalf said, taking Wednesday’s free hand and pressing a brief kiss to her knuckles.  
“Gandalf is an old acquaintance of my father, and a source of great help,” Thranduil said, “There is no better mediator in business than Gandalf.”  
“My boy, you flatter me,” said the older man, “News of your friend here has already spread. Thorin says he met her a few weeks ago, but he never did her beauty justice. I must say, Thranduil, I was surprised. There’s never been a hint of you seeing anyone since…” He trailed off.  
“I know,” Thranduil said, relieving Gandalf of having to finish his sentence, “But it was time to move on. She wouldn’t have wanted me to be alone.” Now Wednesday felt nervous for a whole different reason. She had never asked Thranduil if he had dated since his wife’s death. It seemed that she was the first and was going to be the subject of much curiosity. Thranduil and Gandalf exchanged a few more words, making promises to meet again after the New Year for dinner before Gandalf disappeared back into the crowd.

“Wednesday?” Thranduil’s voice drew her back from her thoughts, “What’s wrong?”  
“You haven’t dated since she died, have you?” she asked. Thranduil shook his head gently.  
“It never felt right, not until I saw you,” he answered honestly.  
“Thranduil, people are going to ask questions,” she said, trying to rein in the panic in her voice, “What do we tell them if they ask how we met? Somehow I don’t think it would do your reputation much good if we told them the truth.”  
“Then we don’t tell them the whole truth,” Thranduil said, “I have considered this, my dear. If they ask, we met in the club where you work. We don’t mention the name, or exactly what you do. I promise, we don’t have to tell more than you want to.”  
“Thank you,” Wednesday said, reaching up to kiss his cheek.  
“If they press, I will change the subject,” Thranduil continued, offering her his arm once more, “Trust me, most of the men in this room met their partners in less than savoury circumstances.” Wednesday took it.  
“You sound like you know all the gossip,” she said smiling.  
“I have eyes and ears everywhere,” Thranduil said as he led her further into the room.

*

After meeting Gandalf, Wednesday met a few other acquaintances of Thranduil’s. None of them pressed about what she did for a living, most were just shocked at the concept of Thranduil seeing someone. She earned more than a few jealous looks from other women when they learnt the name of the designer of her dress, and that her jewellery had been donated by Letterman’s, the largest jewellers in the city. It was to go up for auction that evening, with all the proceeds going to charity. Her nerves were finally beginning to settle, the glasses of champagne were helping and the fact that if someone looked like they were going to ask how they had met or what she did for a living, Thranduil promptly whisked her away onto the dance floor. She made a mental note to repay him in some way for going out of his way to protect her feelings.

He was just leading her off the dance floor for the third time when a familiar figure appeared in front of them.  
“Thorin,” Thranduil said simply.  
“Thranduil,” Thorin said before turning his attention to Wednesday, “Wednesday, delightful to see you again.”  
“And you, Mr Durinson,” she replied, giving Thranduil’s hand a gentle squeeze as he began to tense up.  
“This is another of my cousins, Balin,” Thorin said gesturing to an older man on his right. Balin smiled warmly.  
“A pleasure to meet you miss….”  
“McQueen,” Wednesday said, “But you can call me Wednesday.” She felt instantly at ease around Balin. He had the feel of a favourite uncle with his warm and cheery face and gentle voice.  
“Wednesday, a lovely name,” Balin said, “Wednesday’s child is full of woe, I hope that old rhyme isn’t true.”  
“Not tonight, this Wednesday’s child is full of champagne,” Wednesday said, laughing a little.  
“Uncle, they didn’t have your usual whiskey,” came a voice from behind Thorin, “But they did have a Glenfiddich.” A young man came around, carrying two glasses. He looked up and immediately froze.

Wednesday couldn’t believe it. It was Fili, the guy who she had given a lap dance to a few weeks before. The same guy who had rushed out midway through.  
“Ah, I don’t believe you’ve met my eldest nephew, Fili,” Thorin said, taking one of the glasses from the shocked-looking young man.  
“No, I don’t believe I have,” Thranduil said, “Pleasure to meet you, Fili.”  
“And you, Mr Elfking,” Fili said, weakly, shaking Thranduil’s hand and glancing at Wednesday.  
“I’m going to get a drink,” Wednesday said, starting to feel uncomfortable, “Do you want anything?”  
“Wine, please,” Thranduil said, kissing her cheek. She pulled away and hurried towards the bar, her heart pounding in her ears. She had never considered the possibility that someone who had visited the club would be here tonight. All it would take is Fili to say something to the wrong person, and all of Thranduil’s friends and acquaintances would know what she did. She steadied her hands on the mahogany bar as she waited to be served.  
“What will it be?” a bartender asked.  
“Champagne and a red wine, please,” Wednesday said.  
“Tab number?”  
“Twenty-six,” she answered, “And a double Jack on the rocks!” The bartender nodded and left to fetch her drinks. He brought her the double Jack first and she quickly knocked it back. What was she going to do? How was she going to make sure Fili didn’t blab? He didn’t look like he could be easily persuaded. A hand touched her shoulder. She spun around. It was Thranduil.  
“What’s wrong?” he asked, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”  
“You know Thorin’s nephew, Fili?”  
“Yes?” Thranduil said, curiously.  
“He came into the club a couple of weeks ago,” Wednesday said quietly, “He’s the guy who came during his lap dance.” Thranduil snorted as he tried to suppress laughter before glancing to the side. Wednesday looked. Fili was walking over.  
“You should know,” Thranduil said, “Thorin is very conservative. He dislikes his family being involved with anything like frat parties, gambling, and going to strip clubs.” He raised an eyebrow, gave her a quick smile before picking up his glass of wine and walking away. It took Wednesday a second to realise that he’d just given her what she needed. She turned back to her champagne as Fili stood next to her, ordering a large brandy. He seemed to have gotten over his surprise.  
“I need to talk to you,” she said firmly.  
“I’m listening,” Fili replied, watching her in the mirrors behind the bar.  
“I’m going to offer you a deal,” she said, “You don’t tell anyone what I do for a living, and I don’t tell anyone that you came into The Firehouse recently.”  
“Why should I keep this to myself?” he asked, one golden brown eyebrow raising, “That my uncle’s oldest rival is dating a stripper?”  
“I think you should,” Wednesday said, feeling bold, “Unless you want your very conservative uncle to know that you went into said club and got a lap dance. Not to mention how embarrassing it would be for it to get out that you came during that dance.” Fili blanched.  
“You think I’d forgotten about that?” Wednesday said, a smile growing.  
“You’re a hell of a negotiator,” Fili said, grinning back at her, “Agreed.”  
“Honey, I’m dating Thranduil,” Wednesday said, picking up her glass, “I have to negotiate to be let out of bed in the morning.”  
“More than I needed to know,” Fili mumbled, taking the brandy laid before him, “Pleasure meeting you, Wednesday.”  
“See you around, Fili,” Wednesday said, turning and walking away from the bar.

She felt on top of the world as she strode away from the bar. With the bare minimum of help from Thranduil, she had plugged the only possible leak of her career. Whilst she did enjoy her job, it was her biggest insecurity. She had tried to get over it, and accept it. But it wasn’t what she wanted to do with her life. She resolved to keep looking for a new job.  
“Pardon me? Is that the Letterman set up for auction this evening?” a deep voice made her stop. She turned to find a young-looking man stood on her left, dressed in a decadent burgundy suit, the top two buttons of his crisp white shirt undone. His shoes were made of crocodile skin and reflected the brilliant white light from the crystal chandelier above them.   
“Yes,” Wednesday said.  
“It is stunning,” the man said, his eyes fixed on her neck, “You came here this evening with Elfking?”  
“Yes,” Wednesday replied, something was off about this man.  
“He always did have exquisite taste,” the man continued, “I should introduce myself, my name is Smaug.”  
“Wednesday McQueen,” Wednesday answered.  
“Well, Miss McQueen, I look forward to the auction,” he said, before slipping away.

Wednesday didn’t give Smaug a second thought, finding Thranduil who was talking with Gandalf again and enjoying the rest of her evening until finally time came for the auction. Several large companies had donated items to be auctioned off for charity but the Letterman’s jewellery was the big item up for bid. Wednesday couldn’t believe the amounts being bid, quickly exceeding half a million. Thranduil bid a few times as did Thorin. The auctioneer was about the close the bidding when a member of the hotel staff came running up, a phone in hand and spoke softly.  
“I have a bid of seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars on the phone,” the auctioneer said quickly, “Does anyone have eight hundred? Going once, going twice…sold! For seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars to…Lord Smaug.” The entire room erupted in noise. People gasped, some even let out a small scream. Several men including Thranduil and Thorin leapt to their feet and began looking around. Wednesday felt herself being pulled into Thranduil’s arms and held tightly.  
“Thranduil, what’s going on?” she asked as people seemed to leap into action. People began to leave quickly, despite the auctioneer’s attempts to calm them and get them to stay.  
“Just stay here,” Thranduil replied, “Stay with me, don’t leave my sight.” His head kept turning, scanning the room.

The room was soon quiet, most of the people gone. Fili, Balin and Gandalf were some of the few remaining. Thranduil’s arm remained locked around Wednesday’s waist. Thorin came striding through the open door.  
“He’s gone, the snake,” he hissed, “I had my security sweep the building.  The damn snake is gone.”  
“Will someone please explain what is going on?” Wednesday asked.  
“The man who made that final bid,” Thranduil said, “He’s dangerous.”  
“Dangerous is an understatement,” Thorin spat, “He turned up twenty years ago at Lake Dale. Our home town used to be prosperous, no one knew poverty or hardship. Then Smaug showed up and started getting involved with local businesses. He destroyed my father and his business. I want that slug dead.”  
“Thorin, calm down,” said Balin, “You said so yourself he’s gone. I suggest we all go home.”  
“He drove my father to suicide and you expect me to be calm?!” Thorin snarled. Balin stood up and put his hands on Thorin’s shoulders.  
“You need to go home, and call your sister,” Balin said, “If she hears about Smaug and doesn’t hear from you, she’s going to think you’ve done something reckless.” Thorin looked like he was going to argue for a moment before turning sharply and barking at Fili to follow him.

Balin turned to Thranduil.  
“Thranduil, I can only offer my sincerest apologies,” Balin said, “I have no idea how Smaug got in, I didn’t even know he was in the city.” Thranduil didn’t say anything but Wednesday felt his fingers curl around a fold in her dress.  
“You should go home too,” Balin said, “I’ll take the jewellery.” Wednesday reached up, despite how close she was pressed to Thranduil and undid the clasp of the necklace and removed the earrings. She handed them over.  
“Stay safe,” Balin said as he took them, “Both of you.”

*

Thranduil didn’t speak until they got back to his apartment. He quickly locked the door and checked all the windows, leaving Wednesday stood in the living room as he ran around. When he was done, he just held her tightly, his face buried in her neck.  
“We need to talk,” he murmured against her skin.  
“I had a feeling,” she replied. She led him over to the couch and they sat down, Thranduil pulling her against him and holding her tightly.  
“What Thorin said earlier, was true,” he said, “Smaug almost destroyed our hometown. He sent many successful businesses into financial ruin and reaped the rewards. People lost their homes, their livelihoods. My father managed to get rid of Smaug before he sent the business over the edge. Thorin’s family had other reserves they could fall on, but most of the families lost everything, and found Smaug as their new landlord.” He paused and Wednesday heard him take a deep, quivering breath.  
“They say he drove Thorin’s father to suicide,” Thranduil said, “But police reports are conflicting. Thorin’s father didn’t own a handgun, and the bullet retrieved from the scene didn’t match the gun in his hand. He wouldn’t have been the only man to kill himself because of Smaug. They also think they found Smaug’s fingerprints on the car involved in my wife’s death.”  
“Think?” Wednesday asked.  
“They were only partials, and a little smudged,” Thranduil said, “But they were there, even though the car did not belong to Smaug. There are these weak ties to deaths and disappearances from all throughout Smaug’s time in Lake Dale. He took almost everything we had, and got away scott-free.” Wednesday turned to face him.  
“When I heard his name tonight, it all came back,” Thranduil said, “How I almost lost everything back then, and I was scared he was going to take away the one thing I love more than anything. You. I love you so much Wednesday, and I don’t want to lose you, least of all because of him.” Wednesday watched him carefully for a moment. He didn’t seem to realise what he’d just said.  
“You love me?” she said softly. Thranduil’s eyes widened slightly and he seemed to hold his breath for a moment.  
“Yes,” he answered, “I love you.” Wednesday leaned in and pressed a kiss to his mouth, his hands instantly reaching for her waist.  
“You love me?” she whispered against his lips.  
“Yes,” he repeated.  
“I love you too,” she confessed, “I’ve wanted to tell you for a while but I…I didn’t know how you felt…” She was cut off by Thranduil pulling her down for another kiss.

*

The sun was just beginning to rise and brighten the large bedroom when Wednesday awoke. Thranduil didn’t have any blinds or drapes to block out the sunlight, and it was considerably less jarring than an alarm clock. But it wasn’t the light that woke her. It was the gentle sensation of Thranduil’s tongue between her legs. She kept her eyes shut, her breath caught in her throat as her hips tilted closer to his mouth. She felt his fingers curl around her thighs, gently pulling her legs further apart to get better access. He never wavered in his pursuit, carefully rolling her clit with the tip of his tongue before closing his mouth over her. Her hands trailed down and found his head, her fingers weaving into his hair. He drove her closer and closer to the brink until, just before she toppled into oblivion, he pulled away, rearing up onto his knees. She looked at him. She could see the muscles in his arms and chest twitching from restraint, his cock jutting out, hard and leaking.

For a moment, he just looked at her before he lunged forward, pinning her to the bed, his lips on hers. Her legs fall open to accept him, his hard length pressing into her with ease.  
“I love you,” he whispered in her ear before rocking his hips against her. Wednesday could only give a pleasure-filled whimper in response as he moved against her, faster and faster until she lost all coherent thought and all that seemed to exist were her and Thranduil. They tumbled over the precipice together, his arms locking around her as she fell apart. They lay entwined together as the cool winter’s sun shone over the city, and she fell asleep once more to Thranduil’s whispers of love.


	8. From The Heart

If Wednesday could describe how life was after Thranduil had told her how much she meant to him, if she could sum it all up in one word, it would have been perfect. Sure they still disagreed on some things but their voices never raised, and the whole thing was done and dusted in a matter of minutes. The most common argument, what they were doing for dinner that night. She barely spent a night at her apartment after the night of the Charity Ball, always finding herself in Thranduil’s luxuriously comfortable bed, entwined in his arms, happy and content. No word came of Smaug, save that a representative of his turned up to collect the jewellery and deliver the money when only an Intern was around, according to Balin, whom Wednesday learned was on the board for the charity. The poor Intern had no idea who Smaug was, only mentioning the jewellery had been collected as she was about to finish for the day. Balin had been furious according to Gandalf who had personally come to the penthouse to deliver the news. Wednesday couldn’t picture the kindly old man as angry but given the reactions people had to word of Smaug, she was willing to believe it possible.

She woke early one Tuesday morning, long before Thranduil, and decided that today was going to be the day she treated him to breakfast in bed. Her rust bucket of a car had let her down again, and he had willingly stayed up until two or three in the morning in order to fetch her from work. Her meagre savings had once again been attacked to try to repair her car but with no success. It was very sweet, Thranduil giving up his sleep in order to make sure she stayed safe but she had lost count of the number of times she had seen him pouring extra strong coffee into a travel cup before he left for work. Today however, he didn’t have to go in and was taking advantage of it. And Wednesday was going to take advantage and make him her specialty, blueberry pancakes. She pulled out the ingredients, now as familiar with his kitchen as she was with her own. She had just poured the batter onto the skillet when the phone rang. She grabbed it, knowing that it would sound in the bedroom as well. She didn’t want Thranduil waking up just yet.  
“Hello?” she said.  
“Wednesday? It’s Ferin,” came the reply. She had answered the phone a few times before and become quite friendly with Ferin, whose actual job title remained a mystery.  
“Morning Ferin, how’s Utah?” she asked.  
“Far, far behind me,” he said, “I had a break overnight. May I speak with Thranduil?”  
“He’s actually asleep at the moment,” Wednesday said as she flipped the pancakes over, “Can I take a message or get him to call you back?”  
“I’m at a pay phone at the moment,” Ferin said, “Just let him know I’m in Montana, and I’m heading back towards Idaho.”  
“Are those two just going in circles?” Wednesday asked.  
“I think they’re onto me, trying to throw me off,” Ferin said, “It won’t work. Just let Thranduil know for me, ok?”  
“Sure thing Ferin,” Wednesday said, “Enjoy Idaho.” She hung up, putting the phone back. She jumped when she felt two hands touch her.  
“It’s alright, it’s only me,” Thranduil whispered as his arms encircled her, “I heard the phone ring.”  
“It was Ferin, he said he’s in Montana, heading towards Idaho,” Wednesday relayed Ferin’s message. Thranduil groaned a little, resting his head on hers.  
“This feels like it’s never ending,” he muttered, “At least in California, they were always in one place.”  
“It’s okay,” Wednesday said, “Maybe if you get Ferin to back off a little, they’ll stop going in circles.”  
“But what if he loses them?” Thranduil said, “Your pancakes are going to burn.”  
“Ah shoot!” Wednesday said, rushing forward and taking them out, “I was going to surprise you with breakfast in bed.”  
“We can still eat them in bed,” he said, opening the fridge and pulling out a bottle of juice, “And then I know you wanted to go shopping, Christmas isn’t far away.”  
“Yeah, but you don’t have to come with me,” Wednesday said as she grabbed two forks for the plateful of pancakes.  
“I want to,” Thranduil said, “I haven’t been part of a couple for a long time, there are certain things I have missed.”  
“Okay,” Wednesday smiled as she spoke, “It sounds like fun.”

*

After breakfast in bed, and a pretty intense make-out session, they wrapped up and headed out.  
“Right, so I still have to buy for Ruby, Gloria, Louis, Evan…” Wednesday said, counting them off on her fingers. Thranduil smiled.  
“Wait, who do you have to buy for?” Wednesday asked.  
“Just you,” Thranduil said softly.  
“Me?” she said. He nodded, holding her hand tightly as they walked along the street.  
“My employees all get bonuses, I have a few close friends whose gifts are shipped from online,” he said, “So if you see something you want, speak up.” Wednesday was about to say something when she spotted the street to the right.  
“Hold that thought,” she said, “I need to go look at something.” She hurried down the street, stopping halfway outside a pawn shop.  
“Any particular reason we’re here?” Thranduil asked, a little concerned about being dragged down a random street.  
“I just wanted to look at it,” Wednesday said, gesturing towards the display in the window. Thranduil looked, a variety of jewellery was being shown.  
“Anything in particular?” he asked, curious about what she was looking at.  
“Do you see that ring at the back?” Wednesday asked, “The one with the purple stone in the centre.” Thranduil quickly spotted it.  
“It’s my grandmother’s engagement ring,” she said, “It was the only thing of any value we had. I had to pawn it to get a fresh start here after my dad died. It paid for my moving costs, my car and the deposit on my apartment….it’s what I’m saving for, to get it back.”  
“Wednesday, if you really want it back….” Thranduil started.  
“No!” she cut him off, “Thranduil, I don’t want your money. It was me who pawned it, I’m the one who’s got to get it back. I can do it. And don’t even think about making it my Christmas present, I swear, I will leave you.” Thranduil held up his hands in mock-surrender.  
“I promise, I will not buy it back as your gift,” he said.  
“Thank you,” she said, “Sorry about dragging you down here, I just…I just had to see it.”  
“I understand,” Thranduil said, “I have a watch that belonged to my grandfather. I was lucky enough to never have to pawn it, but I can imagine how you feel.” Wednesday smiled at him and allowed him to pull her into his embrace.  
“We’re not far from Bag End, I could use something warm to drink,” she said, “It’s freezing out here.”

Bag End was fairly busy when they arrived but Bilbo was able to acknowledge them as they sat down, examining his new Christmas themed drinks menu.  
“So, any thoughts on what you would like?” Thranduil asked.  
“Hmmm, I’m thinking the Mint Hot Chocolate,” Wednesday replied. Thranduil chuckled.  
“I was talking about your gift,” he said, “It’s been a long time since I’ve had to buy a gift for a woman. You looked exquisite in the Letterman’s set….” Wednesday lowered the menu, one eyebrow raised.  
“Thranduil, we’re not having this conversation twice in one hour,” she said firmly.  
“Then you’re going to have to help me,” he said, taking hold of her hand on the table, “What is the point of my having all this money, if I cannot spend it on the person I love.”  
“Because that money will one day go to your son,” Wednesday said, “And I don’t want to take away from it. I’m your girlfriend, Thranduil, a gift from you should be something you want me to have, something from the heart. You will know it when you see it, because you will think of me.” Thranduil sighed.  
“I had forgotten how tricky relationships can be,” he said. Wednesday smiled and held his hand tightly.  
“It’s ok, I’ll whip you into shape, I promise,” she said.

At that moment, Bilbo came hurrying up.  
“Sorry about that,” he said, “I’ve had half of Oakenshield’s staff show up on their lunch break! They said that Thorin won’t shut up about this place. Here, compliments of the house.” He placed a small plate with some chocolates between them.  
“Oh, these look nice,” Wednesday said, licking her lips and picking one up.  
“Homemade,” Bilbo said, “Just a little something I’m trying.” He watched carefully as Wednesday bit into the treat. She chewed slowly before her eyes widened and she swallowed.   
“Oh my gosh!” she exclaimed, “Bilbo, these are fantastic.”  
“Really?” the little man said excitedly, “Can I quote you on that?”  
“Oh god, yes,” Wednesday said, “They’re better than sex.” She ate the rest of the chocolate as Thranduil raised an eyebrow. She shrugged as she swallowed.  
“Still,” she said, grinning, “Go on.” Thranduil let go of her hand, took one of the chocolates and ate it whole. He paused midway through chewing and nodded.  
“There you go Bilbo!” Wednesday said, smiling, “’Better than sex’, Wednesday and Thranduil.”  
“Please don’t put my name on there,” Thranduil said, giving Wednesday a slight glare.  
“Oh I won’t,” Bilbo said, laughing, “Better than sex is more than enough! What can I get for you?”  
“Two Mint Hot Chocolates,” Thranduil said.  
“And a few more of these,” Wednesday said, picking up another chocolate.  
“Coming right up!” Bilbo said.

*

It took a long time, but Wednesday soon had everything she needed. A scarf for Gloria, a steamy romance novel for Ruby, a nice tie for Louis, a CD for Evan, and numerous little gifts for the other folks at The Firehouse as well as a box of Bilbo’s chocolates for the neighbours whose bedroom backed onto hers, as an apology for the times she and Thranduil had made a lot of noise in the early morning. Thranduil had briefly parted from her when she had been browsing the bookstore for Ruby’s gift, coming back with a smile on his face. She had little doubt he had decided on her gift and arranged it as he didn’t come back with a bag or anything.

It was already dark when they had finished shopping and were walking across a square, past a huge old cathedral. As they passed, Wednesday noticed the door was open, warm light flooding out onto the steps. Music was playing inside and she could hear a choir singing…

_Hark how the bells,_  
Sweet silver bells,  
All seem to say,  
Throw cares away

Wednesday tugged on Thranduil’s arm.  
“The choir’s practising, can we go watch?” she asked. Thranduil glanced up at the cathedral before nodding. Wednesday hurried up the steps, Thranduil close behind her, and slipped through the open door. The choir was at the far end of the cathedral, their master conducting them. An older man, wearing a priests garb was close by.  
“Excuse me,” Wednesday whispered, “Are we alright to watch them practice?”  
“Of course,” the priest said.  
“Thank you,” she replied, pulling off her coat and scarf and settling into a pew. Thranduil joined her, his arm across her shoulders. The boys in the choir smiled when they saw they had an audience.  
“This is my favourite Christmas song,” Wednesday whispered, leaning into Thranduil who pressed a kiss to her head.  
“I danced to this for a Christmas pageant when I was younger,” she continued, “I loved doing ballet then. I can still remember doing the most beautiful pirouettes.”

She bent forward and pulled off her boots.  
“What are you doing?” Thranduil asked in a hushed voice as she clambered over him and into the aisle. She moved closer to the choir a few feet, her feet now only clad in her thick tights and warm winter socks. She straightened up, positioned her arms and as the boys in the choir reached a chorus, she began to pirouette. Though it had been a few years, she spun around in perfect time with the choir, not once losing her balance, before walking on pointe a little down the aisle, remembering the routine from her childhood perfectly, even in the small area that the aisle. Thranduil watched transfixed at the elegance of her movements as she continued. When Wednesday finished, the boys on the choir gave a small round of applause.  
“Thank you,” she said before hurrying back to Thranduil who slid over in the pew, his jaw slack.  
“That was stunning,” he said softly.  
“Thanks, I couldn’t resist,” Wednesday said as she pulled her boots back on before looking up at him.  
“What’s that look for?” she asked, seeing a strange look on his face.  
“Nothing,” he replied, shaking his head, “I was just thinking about how…how perfect your gift is going to be.” He leaned in and gave her a kiss.  
“Let’s go home,” he whispered, gathering up her scarf and coat with one hand.

 


	9. The Return of the Son

The closer Christmas approached, the more Wednesday actually began to feel merry. Unlike the last few years which had been marred by her father’s declining health and eventual passing, she actually had something to look forward to. She would be spending her first Christmas with Thranduil, and it would be a special one for both of them. They had both been alone on previous years, but this year they would be together. Wednesday had already planned an intimate dinner for the two of them on Christmas Day and was planning on making the most of it. She finished work late on Christmas Eve, having given her gifts out to all her friends. Ruby had immediately ripped hers open upon receiving it and promised to enjoy it with the hot bubble bath she planned to spend her Christmas morning in.

It had been a pleasant surprise to come out of The Firehouse and find Thranduil waiting in the parking lot for her. They had all had a drink (or two) after the bar officially closed, and Thranduil was very patient, especially with a very tipsy Gloria who had procured a sprig of mistletoe from somewhere and demanded a kiss. Wednesday had been leaning on Ruby trying not to wet herself at Gloria’s drunken attempt at seduction. Thranduil had pressed a kiss to Gloria’s cheek which had seemed to satisfy the woman. Evan was next to try his luck but only got a slap around the back of the head for his efforts. The others had all stumbled off to cabs as Wednesday had waved goodbye before sliding into the passenger seat next to Thranduil. She had talked about nothing as they had driven, Thranduil had a permanent smile pasted on his face. He kept glancing at her and grinning. He had something planned, but Wednesday didn’t care. His arm was a comforting support around her waist as they had made their way from the car to the penthouse.

“What did I do to deserve someone like you?” she slurred, trying to wind her arms around his neck as he opened the door to his apartment.  
“You are more drunk than I realised,” Thranduil laughed, tightening his grip around her waist as she swayed, “I think some coffee is in order.”  
“I’d much rather fuck,” Wednesday grinned. Thranduil looked her up and down.  
“No,” he said, “You’re too drunk for that.”  
“No, I’m not,” she protested.  
“Yes, you are,” Thranduil said, “Coffee and then straight to sleep.” Wednesday pouted a little.  
“Do this,” he said before leaning in to whisper in her ear, “And I promise, I will fuck you until you can’t walk tomorrow.” Wednesday grinned drunkenly at the idea, leaning more into him.  
“Okay,” she said.  
“Okay,” Thranduil said, “Right, c’mon now.” He crouched a little and heaved her over his shoulder as he got the door open. Wednesday squealed as he carried her into the apartment, kicking the door shut behind him. Her squeals died into laughter as he took her into the living room and dropped her onto the couch. He leaned over her, a ridiculous smile on his face as he did so.  
“Stay here,” he ordered, “Don’t move a muscle.”  
“Yes, Sir,” Wednesday said, giving a mock salute. He pressed a kiss to her cheek and left to fetch coffee. Wednesday hauled herself up and took her shoes off. Settling back into the couch cushions, it felt incredibly comfortable. She could shut her eyes for a moment, just for a moment. Of course, by the time Thranduil returned with coffee, she was fast asleep.

*

When Wednesday woke up the next morning, she was confused. The last she remembered was just closing her eyes for a moment on Thranduil’s couch. She sat upright. She was dressed in an old tank top and pyjama bottoms, her hair had been brushed, her makeup cleaned off and she was in his bed.  
“Sleep well?” a deep voice to her side spoke. She looked down and saw Thranduil laid beside her.  
“Did…did you…”  
“You helped a little,” he chuckled, “I came back with your coffee to find you passed out on the couch. You came to a little and were very insistent about washing your face so you wouldn’t look old, your words not mine.” Wednesday put her head in her hands.  
“Oh, god, I really did drink too much,” she muttered, “I’m sorry. I didn’t puke, did i?”  
“No, you were okay,” he said, sitting up, “Anyway, good morning, and Merry Christmas.” Wednesday lifted her head and smiled at him.  
“Merry Christmas,” she said.  
“Do I get a kiss?” he asked.  
“Only if I get to brush my teeth first,” Wednesday said before climbing off the bed and hurrying off to the bathroom.

She brushed her teeth quickly before padding downstairs and searching through the pockets of one of the coats she had left there. She found what she was looking for, Thranduil’s gift. She hurried back upstairs, the small package in hand to find him sat on the bed, looking at his phone.  
“Everything ok?” she asked. He was frowning, one thumb hovering over the phone as if he were debating pressing a button. His frown vanished as he looked up at her. Wednesday sat down on the bed and glanced at the screen. The contact page for his son was on the screen. She glanced down at the log of interaction. Two dates seemed to pop up, Christmas and one other day. She guessed Legolas’ birthday.  
“Call him,” she said, “He may answer.”  
“I’ve been telling myself that since he left,” Thranduil said, his voice so pitiful it made Wednesday’s heart break. He locked the phone and put it down.  
“Would you like your gift?” he asked. Wednesday nodded. He pulled open the drawer of his bedside table and pulled out a small navy-blue box, fastened with a silver ribbon. Wednesday took it, giving him a kiss as she did. She leaned back and undid the ribbon before opening the box. Inside it was a small silver key on a cute keychain.  
“What’s this?” she asked.  
“A key, to here,” he said, “I had planned to give it to you so you could come and go more as you please, but after seeing you dancing in the church, I realised….Wednesday, I want you to move in with me.” Wednesday opened her mouth to say something but Thranduil cut her off.  
“I know it’s soon, but you practically live here anyway,” he said quickly, “And the money you save on rent, you can use to get a new car and get your grandmother’s ring back….what?” Wednesday was grinning from ear to ear.  
“Nothing, you just seemed to excited,” she said, “And yes, I would love to live with you. This is what I meant when I said something from the heart.”  
“Really, you’re going to come live with me?” he said. Wednesday nodded. Thranduil practically threw himself at her, sending her flat onto her back as he kissed her.  
“You’ve made me very happy,” he said when he pulled back.  
“Oh, so you don’t want this then?” Wednesday replied, pulling his gift out from under her back. His head flicked to look at the small box in her hand. He took it and rolled off her.

Thranduil unwrapped the box quietly and quickly. Wednesday rolled onto her side to watch as he opened it. Inside it were a set of sterling silver cufflinks, decorated with an elaborate leaf design. She had seen them in a second-hand shop, in need of a little polish, but they reminded her of Thranduil.  
“Wednesday, they’re stunning,” he said, “Thank you.”  
“I saw them and you just sprang to mind,” she said, snuggling in close to him.  
“They’re beautiful,” he said, “Can you pass me my phone?” Wednesday reached for his phone.  
“Putting a picture online?” she joked.  
“No, just a quick call,” he said tapping on the screen before putting the phone to his ear. He was silent for a moment, smiling at Wednesday and then at the cufflinks.  
“Legolas, it’s Dad,” he said finally, “I just wanted to wish you and Tauriel a Merry Christmas from me and Wednesday. I love you, son.” He then hung up.  
“Voicemail?” Wednesday asked.  
“Yes, it always is,” he said, “But this is the first time I’ve ever felt genuinely happy when I called him.”  
“You mentioned me,” she said softly.  
“That’s because you make me happy,” he said, “For the first time in years, I’m not spending the holidays waiting for Legolas to call or walk back through the door.”  
“You should have picked up a stripper years ago,” Wednesday said, grinning as she rolled on top of him.  
“Hmmm, perhaps I should have,” Thranduil said, dropping his phone and the cufflinks to his sides as she settled herself above him. His hands came to her waist, slowly staring to draw up her tank top as she leaned in to kiss him.  
“Is this a second gift?” he asked between kisses.  
“Well I have to pay my way somehow now we’re living together,” Wednesday joked before rolling her hips against him. His arms encircled her as their tongues entwined together, their hips rolling together in rhythm. They were racing towards a fever pitch, Thranduil’s hands pulling at Wednesday’s clothes, trying to decided what to remove first. He rolled them over, his fingers just slipping beneath the waistband of her pyjama pants when the door downstairs slammed. Immediately they pulled apart.  
“Was that the door?” Wednesday asked in a hushed voice. Thranduil nodded, getting off the bed and heading towards the bedroom door. Wednesday straightened her clothes and followed him.

Thranduil moved slowly and quietly towards the stairs. Wednesday could hear the fridge door being opened as they made their way down slowly. They were just reaching the bottom when someone came out the kitchen. Wednesday made a loud gasp when she saw them. A little shorter than Thranduil, more golden-blonde than platinum, but the man was undoubtedly Thranduil’s son, Legolas. He had the same dark eyebrows.  
“Legolas,” Thranduil said, his voice filled with utter disbelief at the sight of his son, standing in the kitchen doorway, holding a bottle of juice like he’d never been away.  
“Hey Dad,” Legolas said, giving Wednesday a curious glance. He moved past them to the stairs.  
“I…I….where’s Tauriel?” Thranduil stuttered, as in shock as Wednesday, “What are you doing here?” Legolas let out an exasperated noise, turning around halfway up the stairs.  
“I left Tauriel behind, she can take care of herself,” he said, “I’m here because I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”  
“But…Tauriel is pregnant, I know that,” Thranduil said, “How could you leave her behind?” Legolas shrugged.  
“Not my kid,” he said, unscrewing the top off the bottle. He turned and headed up the stairs, sipping from the bottle as he went. Thranduil looked at Wednesday.  
“You…you saw him too, right?” he said, “He’s not part of my imagination?”  
“No, Thranduil,” she said, “He’s real alright. It looks like your son is back.”


	10. A Mess of a Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

Wednesday could only feign interest in what was on television for so much longer. She was trying desperately to ignore the continuing argument between father and son that was taking place in the kitchen.  
“You just left her behind?!” Thranduil was beyond furious.  
“Tauriel and I are adults, Dad,” Legolas responded, “I don’t have to hold her hand to cross the street anymore!”  
“There’s a difference between crossing the street and leaving a pregnant woman in the middle of nowhere!”  
“It’s not my kid! Why should I stick around?”  
“The fact I have to answer that question is ridiculous! Who is the father anyway?”  
Legolas didn’t answer and silence fell over the apartment.  
“I don’t have to answer these bullshit questions,” he snapped, storming out the kitchen and up the stairs. Thranduil followed, getting as far as three steps up before slamming his palm on the wall and coming back down. He threw himself down on the couch, head back and eyes screwed shut.  
“I think I’m getting a migraine,” he muttered. Wednesday instantly slid over to him.  
“Do you want some pain killers?” she asked. Thranduil shook his head.  
“No, I’ll be fine,” he said, “I have to call Feren. I need to find Tauriel, I can’t leave her out there on her own.” He hauled himself off the couch again, grabbing the phone off the coffee table.  
“I’m going to start dinner,” Wednesday said brightly.  
“Great, thanks,” Thranduil said, running his hand through his hair as he punched in a number. Wednesday sighed and grabbed her cell phone, taking it into the kitchen with her. She had a few messages. Mostly holiday wishes from people and one message from Ruby asking if she and Thranduil had had sex yet. Wednesday ignored it and started to pull stuff out the fridge. She looked around the door of the kitchen. Thranduil had the phone to his ear, pacing back and forth.  
“Please Feren, just find her,” he was saying, “She’s all on her own.” It was endearing to see him so worried but she felt left out. She’d had so many hopes for today and they were all dashed. She couldn’t help but feel disappointed.

She just about managed to make her ‘intimate dinner for two’ stretch to three servings. Whilst the small turkey crown was resting, she hurried upstairs and changed into pants and a nice sweater. On her way back down, she knocked on Legolas’ door. He yanked it open rather abruptly, making her jump.  
“What?” he asked.  
“Oh, sorry, dinner’s almost ready,” she said, “I made you some.” She then stepped away and hurried down the stairs, touching Thranduil’s arm and mouthing the same message as he took yet another phonecall. She served up the turkey and took the three plates to the dining table that was never used, but she had decorated it to make it look festive. There was even an ice bucket to one side with a bottle of champagne from Thranduil’s wine cooler fridge. She smiled as she admired her handiwork. This could be what pulled it back today.

Within moments, both men appeared. Wednesday’s smile fell when she saw Thranduil still had the phone to his ear. Legolas took his plate and cutlery and walked away, heading back upstairs. Thranduil covered the phone.  
“Sorry, my love, but we think we’ve found her, I have to take this,” he said. He turned and started to talking to whoever was on the other end of the line. Wednesday flopped down into her chair and blew out the candles she had lit. Her appetite was gone so she pushed her plate away. She folded her arms on the table and laid her head on them. She didn’t even realise she was crying until she felt the tears drop onto her arms. Her shoulders shook. This was supposed to be her perfect Christmas with Thranduil, and so far, it was almost as crappy as last year. And it wasn’t anyone’s fault. Legolas had come home to find a strange person living with his father, Thranduil was just trying to make sure Tauriel was okay but Wednesday couldn’t help but feel like she had been cast aside.

She didn’t know how long she stayed like that, her head on her arms, sniffling, feeling pathetic and useless and ashamed that she couldn’t seem to handle Thranduil’s attention being elsewhere. But today was supposed to have been the two of them so surely she was right to feel a little put out that he had dropped her to deal with something else. She felt so conflicted she didn’t even hear Thranduil walking back in, pausing when he saw her hunched form. She didn’t realise he was there until his hand touched her head. She lifted it up and looked up at him. He looked horrified.  
“Forgive me,” he said softly, “I should not have ignored you.” She wondered how he did that, always knew how she was feeling, how he always knew the right things to say. His hand moved to hers and grasped it tightly.  
“I let Legolas make a mess of our first Christmas together,” he continued, “And I shouldn’t have. Let me make it up to you.”  
“Is…Is Tauriel ok?” Wednesday asked, wiping her eyes on the backs of her hands.  
“Yes, she is fine,” Thranduil said, smiling, “She sent a message to my office and it went to my secretary. She is safe and well. I’m not to worry apparently. Now, I can focus on you again. Come here.” He pulled her to her feet and into his arms.  
“I love you so much,” he whispered as his arms held her tightly, “And I feel terrible for being the cause of your unhappiness.”  
“I love you too,” Wednesday replied, her arms winding around his neck.  
“I have an idea,” he said, a mischievous grin she knew all too well spreading across his face.  
“Oh?”  
“Yes, another gift,” he said, “Come.” He stepped back, taking hold of one of her hands and grabbing the chilled bottle of champagne in the other. Wednesday quickly grabbed two of the glasses on the table as he pulled her along. He led her to the stairs and up, along the hallway to the bathroom.  
“We,” he said as he kicked the door shut behind them, “We are going to take a bath together.”  
“We’ve never done that before,” Wednesday said as Thranduil set the bottle down at the edge of the bath and turned the taps on.  
“I know,” he said as he stood up. He took the glasses from her with one hand and lifted her chin with the other. He kissed her gently but still sending heat coursing through her. She let out a low whimper when he parted from her.  
“I want you to go change,” he whispered, “Into the most provocative lingerie you have here and your robe. Be back in ten minutes.”  
“Yes, sir,” she replied. He stepped backwards and for a moment she almost followed him but instead, she stepped back and left. She hurried to his bedroom.

*

Ten minutes later, she slipped back into the bathroom, holding the robe shut around herself. The tub was now filled with steaming water and foamy bubbles. Thranduil had lit candles all around the bathroom, the main light switched off. The bottle of champagne, now open, sat by the side of the tub with the two glasses. The man himself was already in the water, watching for her. Wednesday couldn’t help but bite her lip nervously as he eyed her hungrily.  
“And what have you got for me under there?” he asked. Wednesday moved into a better position for him to look at her. She shrugged off the robe and let it fall to the floor. Thranduil let out a low groan and closed his eyes for a moment, his jaw clenching.  
“Madam, you appear to have forgotten your underpants,” he growled, looking over the dark blue bra and garter belt with matching stockings.  
“It didn’t come with underpants,” Wednesday grinned. Thranduil groaned again, one hand slipping below the water, no doubt to stroke himself.  
“I want you to take them off for me,” he said, “Slowly.” Wednesday grinned again, she could do that.

She ran her hands through her hair, shaking out any tangles before running her hands down her neck. Thranduil’s eyes followed her fingers as they skimmed over the satin cups of her bra, gently cupping her breasts. Thranduil moaned as he watched her hands moved to slide over her curves and down her hips. Her hands returned to her bra and began to unhook the front fastening. Thranduil’s lips parted as Wednesday let the bra slip down her arms, revealing her breasts. She saw his arm that was submerged begin to move and grinned. She slid her hands down her body as far as her knees and then back up, quickly unsnapping her garters, allowing the dark blue stockings to slip down her legs. She stepped out of them, leaving herself only clad in the garter belt and a desperately hungry look on Thranduil’s face.  
“Come here,” he moaned, “Come here now.” He moved in the tub to meet her at the edge. He pulled her down and kissed her, tongues tangling together. He hooked one arm around her legs and brought her down so she was sat on the edge of the bath, her legs on either side of him. His hands pushed her back as he began to kiss down her neck. He lavished her with attention, tracing kisses along her clavicles, nuzzling the soft undersides of her breasts, closing his mouth over her hardened nipples and dipping his tongue into her navel as he travelled downwards.

Shivers ran down Wednesday’s spine as Thranduil drew closer and closer to her aching centre. She panted his name over and over as he gently pried her thighs apart. He gave a slow, languid lick along her slit, pressing the tip of his tongue against her clit. Her body jerked at the jolts of pleasure and her hands wove themselves into his hair. He remained there for a moment before pulling back, his hands moving to her waist. Wednesday let out a whimper in protest but it died out when he easily lifted her up into his arms and pulled her into the bath with him. He leaned back in the hot water, drawing her into sweet kisses with just the barest hints of tongue. She could feel his length pressing against her thigh but he made no urgent movements to bury himself inside her. Instead he held her in his arms and focussed solely on kissing her. His embrace was as warm as the water, his hands skimming over her thighs, her backside, her back and arms. One even slid under a breast, cupping it and drawing a groan from both of them.  
“I’m sorry for how I behaved today,” he said after a moment. Wednesday could only smile and rest her head on his shoulder, his hands stroking her back.  
“There’s nothing to forgive,” she said happily, “It’s an extraordinary situation to say the least.”  
“But I made you sad, you were crying,” he said, “And that is not forgivable if I could have avoided it easily.”  
“But I’m happy now,” Wednesday replied, her hands tracing the curves of his chest muscles. She was fascinated on how he stayed so defined with so little time to go to the gym. Then again, their bedroom gymnastics were proving quite the workout for her.  
“Do you still want to move in?” he asked.  
“If you still want me to,” she replied, sitting up in his lap to look at him, “I know the situation has changed now, with Legolas…”  
“He has no say in who gets to live here,” Thranduil said sharply, “I paid for this place, my say is the only say. If he has a problem with that, he can look for somewhere else to live or shut up about it. So we’ll start moving you in next week?”  
“Sounds good to me,” Wednesday answered.  
“Then a toast is in order,” Thranduil said, grabbing the champagne bottle and pouring some into the two glasses. He handed one to Wednesday, who giggled a little, and took the other for himself.  
“To us,” he said, “I love you, Merry Christmas.”  
“To us,” Wednesday repeated, clinking her glass with his before taking a sip. Thranduil took one of his own, watching her closely. He polished off his glass in three large gulps and set it down on the side whilst Wednesday still had half of hers.  
“You need to finish that quickly,” he said.  
“Why?”  
“Because I’m going to have you whether you’re done with your drink or not,” he replied, a wicked smirk spreading across his face as he licked his lips.

Wednesday quickly finished her drink in one gulp and had just set the glass back on the side when Thranduil had pulled her up in his arms. He pulled her against his chest and closed his mouth over one pert nipple as his hands squeezed her backside. Wednesday let out a small shriek in surprise but it faded to a moan as pleasure coursed through her. Thranduil teased her flesh with his tongue, savouring the sounds he was drawing from her before pulling away. Wednesday instantly started to lower herself, feeling him press against her entrance. He slid in easily, his head leaning back against the side of the bath as she clutched at his shoulders.  
“Fuck, Wednesday,” he whispered, his eyes closing, his hands squeezing her hips as she rolled against him, “Yes.” Wednesday could feel every care washing away as she connected with him in the most physical way. Everything seemed to ebb away as they became one until there was nothing left but each other. She climbed slowly towards that peak, eager for the sensation of release, and that moment when she forgot everything else.

She barely heard the sound of the door opening but Thranduil’s shout and his arm tightening around her brought her back to earth with a bump.  
“For fuck….Legolas, I swear we had the knocking before entering conversation when you were six,” Thranduil growled. Wednesday found herself eternally grateful for the bubbles which were no doubt hiding their lower halves. She glanced briefly over her shoulder to see Legolas turned away, looking out the door and not at the moment he had intruded on.  
“When will Wednesday be going home?” he asked, “I want to talk to you, Dad.”  
“She is home,” Thranduil replied sharply, his arm loosening enough for Wednesday to disentangle herself from him.  
“Since when?” Legolas sounded surprised and a little annoyed.  
“Since about five minutes before you waltzed back through the door,” Thranduil was more than aggravated with his son, Wednesday could tell as she climbed out the bath and grabbed one of the large towels to wrap herself in. Legolas let out a sarcastic laugh as Thranduil climbed out too.  
“Really, Dad?” he said, “You’re that desperately lonely, you invite a stripper you’ve barely known three months to live with you.” Wednesday froze and an uncomfortable silence descended on the room as Thranduil grabbed a towel. Legolas’ had tensed up and with good reason. Thranduil looked almost murderous as he glared at the back of his son’s head.  
“Legolas, how did you know that?” he asked quietly.


	11. Like Father Like Son

Wednesday lay on Thranduil’s sprawling bed, attempting to lose herself in her book. But it was difficult with Thranduil and Legolas on their newest blazing row. Thranduil wanted to know how Legolas had known about Wednesday, about her job. His words had hurt, hitting on her biggest insecurity, how people saw her when they knew what she did for a living.

_You’re that desperately lonely, you invite a stripper you’ve barely known three months to live with you._

Legolas wasn’t giving up his source and his impertinence was testing Thranduil’s patience. A door down the hallway slammed shut and moments later, the bedroom door opened and Thranduil stormed in. He smashed the door shut behind him and threw himself, face down onto the bed beside her, growling in frustration.

Wednesday closed her book and put it to one side, rolling over to look at him. She ran her fingers through his silky hair in a soothing gesture. Thranduil’s growl dissipated to irritated groans.  
“Why must he be so stubborn?” he muttered.  
“Gee, I wonder where he gets it from,” Wednesday said. Thranduil chuckled and rolled onto his side.  
“I’m sorry today didn’t work out how you planned it,” he said, brushing her hair behind her ear, “And for letting Legolas ruin every single moment of it.”  
“You couldn’t have predicted he would come back like that,” Wednesday said, as his hand trailed down her neck, “We should get some sleep. It’s been a long day.” Thranduil nodded in agreement, pulling his hand back.

The pair of them climbed off the bed and changed out of their day clothes, Wednesday pulled on some warm fleecy pyjama pants and a vest top before climbing into the bed. Thranduil shut off the lights, leaving the drapes open as usual and climbed in next to her. He spooned her, wrapping her up in his arms and kissing the side of her head.  
“You still want to move in?” he whispered.  
“For the third time, yes,” Wednesday said, “If you keep asking me, I’m going to change my mind.”  
“Fine, I’ll move in with you and Legolas can wallow here on his own,” Thranduil said brightly. Wednesday reached behind her and slapped his leg, making him laugh.  
“Shut up and go to sleep,” she chortled. Thranduil’s laughs eventually died down, his breathing evened out, and within ten minutes he was asleep. Wednesday however had no such luck. She watched the hours tick by on the clock, and despite feeling tired, she could not sleep. Eventually, Thranduil rolled over completely and Wednesday could slip out of the bed. She hoped a visit to the bathroom and a drink would help her doze off, especially as she couldn’t pinpoint exactly why she was still awake.

She was almost at the bottom of the stairs when movement in the kitchen made her start before she remembered it was no longer just the two of them in the apartment. Legolas was sat on the kitchen counter eating something out of a bowl. He looked up when she walked in but quickly turned his attention back to his food. Wednesday opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water.  
“Still up?” she asked. Legolas just shrugged in response but not before Wednesday had spotted the cell phone at his side. Was he waiting on a phone call or had he made one?  
“Can’t sleep?” his softly spoken question caught Wednesday off guard and she almost spilt water down herself.  
“Yeah,” she answered, wiping her chin, “I don’t know why. You waiting on someone?” She nodded towards the phone at his side. Legolas looked at the phone and seemed to hesitate.  
“Did you speak to Tauriel?” Wednesday asked. Legolas put his bowl down on the counter and hopped off.  
“No, she’s asleep,” he said, “I spoke to….well, it was…”  
“The father of her baby?” Wednesday suggested, going on a gut instinct. Legolas let out a deep sigh and nodded.  
“My Dad is right, I wouldn’t leave her out in the middle of nowhere on her own,” he admitted, “I put her on a train and waited until I got the call that she had arrived safely.”

He was watching her closely.  
“I’m not telling you who he is,” he added quickly. Wednesday held her hands up in mock-surrender.  
“I don’t want to know,” she said, “And even if you did, it’s not my place to tell Thran…your father.” Legolas looked down, suddenly finding his fingernails fascinating.  
“You’re going to have to start talking to him, you know,” Wednesday said softly, “Can you imagine how he feels? When the two of you walked out of here five years ago, he didn’t have anyone left. When I first met him, he was the loneliest man ever. I mean, you know what I do for a living, your Dad was in there most nights if he was in town, but he never watched the girls dance. He didn’t go to that club for women, he went for company, just to have some noise around him.”  
“He could have found company somewhere other than a strip club,” Legolas said, glaring at her.  
“He’s not a dog, you can’t just leave the radio on for him and expect him to find it companionable,” Wednesday snapped, “And I’ve been into his world, I’ve been to one of those parties. The people all blend together, they all act the same. You come into mine, and there’s variety, people aren’t afraid to be themselves. I’ve seen your Dad come alive while we’ve been together. The only time I’ve seen him clam up was when we bumped into Thorin Durinson out in the world.”  
“Yeah, at that coffee shop, Bag End,” Legolas said before quickly going pale.  
“How did you know that?” Wednesday asked. Legolas huffed and folded his arms.  
“I know my Dad was keeping tabs on me,” he said, “So I kept tabs on him.”  
“Someone who knew I was a stripper?” she replied, “Well, that narrows it down.”  
“Don’t tell him….please,” Legolas said, looking to one side, “He won’t let it rest if he knows. And I’d like to come home. I won’t be able to stay if he’s constantly questioning me.”  
“Okay, but you’re going to have to accept what I do for a living,” Wednesday countered.  
“Hell of a negotiator, you are,” Legolas said, grinning. She paused for a moment. Someone else had called her that before but she was too tired to remember who.  
“I’m dating your Dad, comes with the job,” she said, “Goodnight Legolas.”  
“Goodnight Wednesday,” Legolas replied.

Wednesday headed back upstairs, taking her water with her. Thranduil stirred as she shut the door.  
“Why are you still awake?” he murmured sleepily.  
“Couldn’t drop off,” she replied quietly as she slipped back into bed, “But I just had a chat with Legolas. He doesn’t want to talk about the past, he just wants to come home. Everything is going to be okay, Thranduil.” He didn’t answer, he just pulled her into his arms.  
“I want nothing more than for him to come home,” he slurred.  
“Then leave him be,” she whispered back, “And he’ll leave me be.”  
“Okay,” Thranduil muttered before slipping back into sleep. This time, Wednesday found it much easier to drop off.

 


	12. Isn't It Ironic?

It seemed like no time at all before the snows of winter made way for spring and before Wednesday knew it, summer was just around the corner. She moved in with Thranduil as planned, with Legolas even volunteering to help. She had done her best to get along with him, and he had done the same. With only a five year age gap, it had been quite easy. They made small talk, asking how the others day had been and such, developing a good rapport and they were soon able to talk as friends. They had worked together on decorating Thranduil’s apartment, to make it feel more like a home. It had been midway through painting a wall that Legolas had mentioned his mother for the first time in Wednesday’s presence. He had told her how his father couldn’t decorate to save his life, but his mother could. He told Wednesday all about the first home he remembered them having, about how his mother had taken a somewhat limited budget and done something extraordinary with it. Wednesday had felt herself growing closer with the young man, something she wanted to encourage.

Legolas had also taken steps to repair his relationship with his father. They had spent time as father and son, Legolas had apologised for the manner he had left in years before and Thranduil had welcomed him back with open arms. He had gone as far as to give Legolas a job. It was fairly low-ranking within his company but it gave Legolas something to do whilst he decided what he wanted to do. He had been attending college before his departure and Thranduil had offered to finance that or an independent business venture, whichever Legolas decided. Legolas had humbly accepted the offer.

It was a warm sunny day, some five months after Legolas’ return, and Wednesday was seated on the bed she shared with Thranduil, carefully counting out the cash she had saved over the last few months. It had taken a long time to save up, as she had been forced to buy a new car after the last one’s inevitable death and she still refused Thranduil’s help financially. But she was finally there. Before her lay enough money to buy back her grandmother’s ring. She could only hope she wasn’t too later. Her agreement with the pawn shop had given her until March to buy the ring back or it would go on sale to anyone. The pawn shop was sort of out the way and the ring was out of style so there wasn’t much of a chance someone had bought it. She carefully stacked the notes into an envelope and climbed off the bed. She opened the door of the walk-in closet and smiled. It always made her smile to see her clothes and Thranduil’s lined up side by side. She had moved in easily and now it seemed natural, to see her things mingled with his, for all three of them to sit down for meals together. It felt like they were a family. Maybe not the most conventional family, Wednesday mused as she pulled on a pair of shoes, but they still were one.

*

The whole walk to the pawn shop Wednesday could feel her spirit soaring. Everything had been going right. She still enjoyed work, though she had been applying to become a dance teacher. Her relationship with Thranduil was going from strength to strength, she was less stressed now she lived with him, knowing she didn’t have to worry, for the first time in her adult life about food in the fridge and a roof over her head. But when she reached the pawn shop, she felt it all come plummeting down. A different ring sat on the stand where her grandmother’s ring had stood.  
“No,” she breathed before hurrying inside. A young woman was sat behind the counter, reading a magazine.  
“Excuse me, I’ve come to ask about the ring I pawned,” Wednesday said.  
“Name?” the woman asked, not even looking up.  
“McQueen.”   
The woman typed the name into the computer one-handed and a file popped up on the screen.  
“Your time ran out March sixteenth,” she said, “Someone bought it the next day.”  
“So it’s gone?” Wednesday asked.  
“’Fraid so,” the woman said, “Buyer didn’t leave any information.”  
“Ok,” Wednesday said before leaving.

She felt utterly dejected as she walked home. She had been sure that the ring wouldn’t sell. But the woman in the shop had been right. Her time had been up, and someone had bought it. She regretted refusing Thranduil’s help. If she had gotten over her pride and said yes, she would still have that ring and all the memories that went with it. By the time she got back to the apartment, she was almost in tears. The last thing she had of her grandmothers and it was gone. Everything felt heavy. She crawled onto the bed and pulled her phone out of her pocket. She set herself an alarm for going to work, having gotten up early to go to the pawn shop. She muted phone calls before setting the phone down. She didn’t want to talk to anyone, she just wanted to go back to sleep.

*

Thranduil and Legolas were both working late so Wednesday saw no one all day. She didn’t even look at her phone as she threw it into her bag and got into her car. She felt horrible. All that work and she had nothing to show for it. All she had to do was swallow her damn pride and asked Thranduil for the last chunk of the money. And he would have given it to her! She was angry, at herself mostly but angry at whoever had gone and bought the ring. Then she felt even worse. That person hadn’t done anything wrong, they had gone into a pawn shop and bought a ring. By the time she was close to The Firehouse, all she wanted to do was change into her dancing clothes, become someone else for the night and forget about being Wednesday for a while.

The fire trucks blocking the entrance to the parking lot were not a welcome sight. Wednesday pulled over at the side of the road and got out the car to find out what was going on. What she found was a smouldering ruin where The Firehouse had stood. Her stomach dropped as she watched the firefighters gathering up their equipment, the fire seemingly put out.  
“WEDNESDAY!” she spun around at the sound of her name. Ruby was running towards her.  
“What happened?” Wednesday spluttered, gesturing towards the burnt-out building.  
“Well, if you’d answered your phone, you’d know,” Ruby snapped, “Some fucking idiot was smoking in the bathroom. He flicked his cigarette butt away and, of all places, it landed in the fricking cleaners mop bucket which had some kind of chemical in it. The whole place was up in flames in ten minutes and we’re out of a job!”  
“What?”  
“No poles, no dancing, honey,” Ruby said, “Louis’ insurance won’t pay up until the criminal case against the guy who did it is over. That could take months because he’s saying he’s not to blame, the cleaner is. Got a witness who says he deliberately put the cigarette butt in the bucket but it’s still going to take forever. How come you didn’t answer your phone?”  
“I’ve been having a shitty day and didn’t feel like talking,” Wednesday said. Her anger was gone, long gone, she felt faint.  
“Honey, you don’t look so good,” said Ruby, rushing forward and putting her arm around Wednesday, “Come here and sit down.”

Ruby led her away from the ruin and sat her down a grassy patch. Wednesday let out a laugh before sobbing loudly.  
“This is just perfect,” she sobbed, “First my grandmother’s ring gets sold before I can get it back, and now I’m out of work. Could my life suck anymore?”  
“Speak for yourself,” Ruby said, dropping down beside her, “We don’t all have some megabucks sugar daddy to take care of us. I’m going to have to move back in with my brother.”  
“Thranduil is not my sugar daddy,” Wednesday sniffled.  
“I know, I’m sorry,” Ruby said, “And I’m sorry about your grandma’s ring. Give me your phone.”  
“Why?” Wednesday asked.  
“Because I’m going to call him to come pick you up,” Ruby replied, reaching into Wednesday’s bag and pulling it out, “You’ve had a shit day, a nasty shock and you’re in no fit state to drive.” She quickly unlocked the phone and tapped on it a few times before moving it to her ear.  
“Hey hot stuff,” she said, smirking when he answered making Wednesday let out a short bark of laughter, “In case you didn’t know The Firehouse, ironically, has burnt down. Your lady is in all kinds of shock and you need to come pick her up. Feel free to bring Junior with you, Aunt Ruby has a present for him.” She hung up and handed the phone back to Wednesday.  
“Thanks,” Wednesday said, “But can you do me a favour? Stop offering Legolas free lap dances.”  
“Hey, he’s an adult and he won the genetic lottery having Sir as a father,” Ruby protested, grinning.  
“Yeah, but it made Thranduil’s birthday party very uncomfortable,” Wednesday pointed out before looking back at her former place of work, “At least my day can’t get any worse.”  
“Sir could get in a car accident,” Ruby said.  
“Yes, thank you, Ruby, very comforting!”

*

The drive home with Thranduil was silent, allowing Wednesday to gather her thoughts. It wasn’t until he had pulled into his parking space and turned off the engine that he spoke.  
“So what’s happened today?” he asked softly.  
“I woke up early and went to the pawn shop,” she started, her voice sounding rather hoarse, “I hoped that no one had bought my grandmother’s ring, but it turns out someone bought it already. I guess I should have expected that. It’s just a thing, I still have my memories of her. But I didn’t want to talk to anyone, so I muted all my phone calls and went back to sleep. Then when I got to work, I found out it had burnt down. So I’ve lost the most precious thing I have ever owned and now I’m out of a job.” She felt Thranduil’s hand on the back of her head and let him turn it so she was looking at him. He leant in and kissed her gently.  
“I love you,” he said, “And I’m here for you. I’m sorry about your grandmother’s ring, and I’m sorry you’ve lost your job. Maybe you’ll let me spoil you for a little bit.”  
“Something tells me you already have something planned,” Wednesday said, catching a gleam in his eye.  
“You know how I told you that I still own my family home at Lake Dale?” he said. She nodded.  
“I was thinking it was time we went on a family vacation,” he continued, “Get out of the city for a while, relax and spend some time together. You, me and Legolas.” Wednesday couldn’t help the faint smile that spread across her face.  
“That sounds perfect,” she said.


	13. Lake Dale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut in this chapter!

Three weeks had passed since The Firehouse had burnt down and Wednesday was finding life as a ‘kept woman’ beyond boring. She never thought it would have been possible but she actually missed the dancing. The music and the vibrancy of the club were gone and her life felt like it was in greyscale. She spoke to Ruby occasionally but it wasn’t the same. She missed the girly chatter and banter in the dressing room before they went out, she missed the friendly smiles of Evan and the other guys. Hell, she even missed Louis. But now, Thranduil was coming through on his promise of a vacation. The sun had long since set, the hour drawing close to midnight when they pulled up at the house. An external light was on, illuminating the path leading from the driveway to the front door but leaving the rest of the house shrouded in darkness. The only other lights were the lights from Thranduil’s car and the moonlight reflecting on the still water of the lake. Wednesday couldn’t believe it. It was so quiet, just the sounds of the gentle summer breeze blowing through the trees and the insects. The silence was only broken by Thranduil and Legolas’ whispering as they got the bags out of the car. She was used to the sounds of the city, of cars going past at all hours, nightclubs with pounding music open until two in the morning. She wrapped her thin cardigan tighter around herself and followed Thranduil to the front door.

The only part of the house she could get a good look at, the door was stunning. Carved into the solid wood frame was a tree and a stag, the cut-out parts carefully filled with panes of glass. It was perfectly Thranduil. He unlocked it and led them in. The inside of the house was in complete darkness and Wednesday almost tripped on the rug just inside the door. Luckily, Thranduil caught her before she hit the floor.  
“Legolas, put the lights on,” Thranduil said. Seconds later, Wednesday was almost blinded by the light. When her vision cleared, she found herself in stunning surroundings. It was far more homely than his penthouse in the city. The walls were all panelled with the same wood, the floors were paved with stone and the furnishings all had the same warm tone. It looked like a family home. Directly in front of her was a large staircase leading upstairs, a warm red carpet covering them. To her left was a huge living room with large leather couches and comfy looking armchairs the perfect size to curl up in. One wall was dominated by a large stone fireplace with a large sheepskin rug in front of it. To her right was a modern kitchen, fitted out with all the latest gadgets, though she didn’t expect anything less from Thranduil. There was also a large dining table taking up almost half the kitchen.  
“What do you think?” Thranduil asked softly as Legolas strolled into the kitchen and opened the fridge door.  
“I…I think it’s wonderful,” Wednesday answered, struggling to breathe. It was beautiful. She could actually envision herself living there, with him. She looked up at Thranduil, he seemed so happy, to be here by the lake.  
“I’m glad you like it,” he said, smiling, “You’ll love it even more when you see it in the daylight, the lake is so close, on a clear day, you can see for miles.”

“Dad!” Legolas’ voice broke the moment, “Sink’s busted.” Thranduil groaned, his arms falling from around Wednesday.  
“What do you mean, it’s busted?” he asked, marching over to where his son was stood.  
“No water, see?” Legolas said, turning the tap on and off with no effect.  
“Great,” Thranduil growled, “I should have known that plumber was a con man. Fine, I’ll call Bard, he might be able to fix it.”  
“Who’s Bard?” Wednesday asked.  
“Old friend, he’s a local handyman and he looks after this place for me,” Thranduil said, pulling his cell phone out his pocket, “It’s midnight on a Friday night, I reckon he’s still up.” He tapped on the screen and put the phone to his ear.  
“Bard? It’s Thranduil,” he said, “Yes, we’ve made it here fine. There’s no water coming through the kitchen sink. Uh-huh? Uh-huh. Okay, you have the spare key, just let yourself in. See you tomorrow.” He put his phone away.  
“Sorted,” he said, “Bard will come in the morning and take a look. Until then, we have bottled water in the fridge.”  
“Well, I’m going to bed,” Legolas said, “Good night.”   
“Good night,” Wednesday replied.

With that, Legolas picked up his bag and climbed the stairs, two at a time.  
“We should head up as well,” Thranduil said, his arm slipping around Wednesday’s waist, “It’s been a long drive.” Wednesday nodded. Thranduil stepped away from her and picked up their bags, leading the way up the stairs. Once at the top, he went straight ahead through an open door. Following him in, Wednesday found herself in what was clearly the master bedroom. A kingsize bed dominated one wall, the opposite had a door that led to an equally large bathroom. The far side of the room were double doors, leading out onto a balcony overlooking the lake. Thranduil was putting their bags down on a dresser as Wednesday moved to the doors and looked out at the lake. The moon was reflected perfectly on its smooth surface. She was mesmerised by it, so much so that she didn’t hear Thranduil closing the door or moving to stand behind her. She jumped when his arms wound around her waist and he kissed her temple.  
“I’m so glad we’re here,” he whispered, “It’s so peaceful and secluded. I love being out here with nature, and I love being with you. Combining the two will be perfect.” His hands slid over her, his fingertips slipping under the waistband of her jeans. Wednesday’s breathing hitched at feel of his skin on hers. He pulled her backwards into him and she could feel him, long and hard against her lower back. She tilted her head back, allowing him to drop his and kiss her. He started off tender but slowly began to graze her lip with his tongue, coaxing her to open up for him.  
“Is this a good time to mention that the walls here are soundproof?” he whispered. Wednesday let out a little moan. She’d spent much of the last six months restraining herself from making too much noise when they made love. She didn’t want to make things awkward with his son, but knowing that sound wouldn’t be an issue tonight made her crave his touch even more. She turned in his arms to face him, her arms slipping around his neck. He kissed her again, long and deep, as he began to walk backwards.

His legs connected with the bed and he sat down, pulling her up onto his lap. She ground against him, drawing deep groans from his throat as his hands slipped to the buttons on her shirt. He quickly undid them, exposing her white lace bra. He quickly divested himself of his own shirt before working on the buttons of her jeans.  
“I love you,” he whispered against her lips as his hands slipped under the waistband and grasping her ass. Wednesday whimpered in response, pressing herself against him. He pushed her jeans down, rolling them over to finish pulling them down along with her panties. He pulled back and started to undo his belt. Wednesday took the opportunity and sat up to take off her bra. And there he was, gloriously naked before her. She remembered their first time together. The quick animal rutting first on his bed and then in his shower. Since then he’d slowed down in their lovemaking, taking more time to taste and touch every inch of her. But tonight, she didn’t want slow. She wanted the animal again.  Thranduil leaned over her, kissing her neck and breasts as he crawled onto the bed. He closed his mouth over one of her breasts, making her gasp and arch up into him. He moaned into her flesh, his hips bucking. His hard cock jabbed her thigh as her hand wove it’s way into his hair and she scrapped his scalp with her nails. He hissed a little. Using his distraction she pushed him over onto his back. She quickly straddled him. He grinned, putting his hands on her hips.  
“I really fucking love you,” he said as she moved into position.  
“I love you too,” she replied before sinking down onto him. Thranduil’s neck arched, his head pressing into the bed and he let out a long moan. Wednesday lifted herself up before dropping herself down. Thranduil cursed, his fingers digging into her hips as she moved, making sure to grind against his pubic bone. She didn’t know what was more arousing, the feel of him hitting so deep inside her, the pressure on her clit or the noises coming out of Thranduil’s mouth. Little moans and whimpers littered with curses that sent shivers down her spine. She could feel him swelling inside her, he needed this as much as she did. Thranduil’s hands left her and he held them up so she could link hers with his. She used the leverage to make shallow movements, keeping him mostly inside her and rubbing her clit against him. She could feel the muscles deep in her tightening, she was so close. So very close.  
“Thranduil,” she panted, “I’m cumming!” She felt the quivers in her thighs as she reached the peak. One more grind and she felt herself shatter. She let out a long cry, feeling Thranduil’s hips jerk upwards to meet her sharply. He shuddered and groaned and she felt him throb inside her, followed by the hot rush of his release.

His hands slid up her sides to cup her head, pulling her down for a heated kiss.  
“I’ve missed you being on top,” he whispered, “You look so beautiful up there, above me.” Wednesday smiled and kissed him back. Thranduil gave a few more gentle thrusts, making Wednesday whimper before he pulled out. He wrapped her up in his arms before slipping one hand between her legs. His fingers found her clit quickly and began to tease it. Wednesday couldn’t help but mewl and plead with him.  
“I know you can do it again,” Thranduil whispered, “Cum for me, I just want to see that beautiful look on your face again.” With his words and his gentle teasing, she soon felt the onset of another orgasm. He led her easily over the edge, grinning as he watched her body tense and contort in pleasure, all in his arms. Wednesday felt light-headed afterwards, she barely felt Thranduil lift her up to pull back the covers but she felt him cover her back up. She felt him lay behind her and put an arm over her. She felt safe and warm and tired. Very tired. Thranduil whispered how much he loved her into her ear as she dozed off, and his promises that this was a vacation she wouldn’t forget.

*

The next morning, Wednesday woke before Thranduil did. She smiled down at him, sweeping his hair aside to kiss his temple before slipping out of bed. She quickly dressed in sweat pants and a tank top and headed downstairs. As she came down, she could hear someone moving in the kitchen. Immediately she thought it to be Legolas.  
“Morning,” she said brightly as she hopped down the last few steps, “Did that Bard guy show up….oh.” She faltered when she saw it wasn’t Legolas who was stood in the kitchen. He was a few inches shorter than Thranduil with dark hair and a short beard. He wore workman’s jeans and boots but his shirt was laid across the island in the centre of the kitchen. Wednesday could feel herself staring at his rugged physique but quickly averted her gaze to his face.  
“You must be Wednesday,” he said, his accent was hard to place, “I’m Bard.” He stepped forward and extended a hand.   
“Hi, yes, I am,” she said, quickly taking his hand, “Wednesday, I mean. Nice to meet you, Bard.”  
“Well, I should have this fixed soon,” Bard said, indicating the sink, “The plumber never actually connected it to the main water pipe, I think I have one in the truck that will fit.” He moved past her, heading for the front door. Wednesday couldn’t help but turn and watch him go. His legs looked fantastic encased in denim and he had a cute little butt too. However it was the grip of a handgun, poking out of the top of the jeans that made Wednesday’s heart skip a beat in panic. What kind of a handyman carried a handgun in his pants?! She quickly turned and ran back up the stairs to the bedroom.

Thranduil was just stirring when she came running in, slamming the door shut behind her and leaping on the bed.  
“That’s a lot of energy for this early in the morning,” he rasped, “Clearly I didn’t wear you out enough last night.”  
“We’re not in danger out here are we?” she asked quickly, “Like bears….or mountain lions or highwaymen…”  
“Bears and highwaymen? What are you talking about?” Thranduil asked, “There are no mountain lions or bears, and I’m pretty sure highwaymen went the way of the seventeenth century.”  
“Well, Bard had this handgun in his pants, why does he need to carry one?” she rambled. Thranduil’s response was a deep chuckle.  
“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he laughed, climbing out of bed and retrieving his clothes.  
“But…”  
“But nothing,” Thranduil said, “Bard’s carried his Black Arrow, that’s what its called by the way, he’s had it for about twenty years. He always has it on him.” He pulled on a t-shirt and pants and headed out the room. Wednesday followed closely behind as he headed to the kitchen.  
“Bard!” Thranduil bellowed as he saw the handyman, “Good to see you again!”  
“And you,” Bard replied as Wednesday crept around the corner into the kitchen, “I’ve met Wednesday, lovely as all have said.”  
“Yes, and thank you for scaring her with the Black Arrow,” Thranduil laughed as he gave Bard a one-armed hug, “She thought there might be bears or something.”  
“Oh, no,” Bard said looking at Wednesday who smiled sheepishly, “I’m saving the Black Arrow for a certain snake.”  
“You know Smaug popped up on the radar back in December?” Thranduil said, his face going serious.  
“I heard,” Bard replied, “Do you think he’ll come back here?” Wednesday stepped closer at the mention of Smaug.  
“Considering we don’t have a full-time police department and ninety percent of the population want him dead? Not likely,” Thranduil said, “How’s the sink?”  
“All fixed,” Bard said, turning the tap to demonstrate, “I’d love to catch up but Balin needs some help with his deck. Maybe I’ll see you tonight, at Bofur’s.”  
“You still drink in that dump?” Thranduil asked, “I remember when we were kids, we used to have to sit outside while our old men downed some warm Guinness.”  
“No, that tight-fisted old codger popped his clogs ten years ago, remember?” Bard said as he pulled his shirt back on, “His eldest, the younger Bofur has taken over. Kids are allowed in now and the Guinness is actually cold.”  
“Well, I suppose we can show our faces for a little while,” Thranduil said, “Thanks again Bard.”  
“If you really want to thank me…” Bard said, with a cheeky grin.  
“Put a few rounds behind the bar for you?”  
“No, actually I was going to say a night with your lady, as payback,” Bard laughed. Thranduil’s face looked like thunder.  
“Bard, that was almost thirty years ago,” he muttered.  
“You still slept with my girlfriend, who later became my wife!” Bard snickered, “Oh relax before you pop a blood vessel! I was only joking. You shouldn’t be so tense, you’re the one with the sex life.”  
“Who’s having a sex life?” Legolas asked, making Wednesday jump as he came into the room behind her.  
“Your Dad,” Bard replied.  
“Oh, I know that,” Legolas said, “These walls aren’t as soundproof as he thinks they are. Twice last night.”  
“You keeping track?” Thranduil asked.  
“Only so I can repay the favour,” Legolas joked.  
“But that would involve you going out and speaking to women,” Wednesday piped in, “Two things you haven’t done in six months.”  
“Oh, ouch,” Bard said, “And on that note, I need to be off.” He picked up his tool box.  
“Lovely to meet you Wednesday,” he said, “See you all later.”  
“Goodbye Bard,” Thranduil called as Bard let himself out.

After a leisurely breakfast of warm toast and hot coffee, Wednesday broached the subject of what they were going to do.  
“Well, I need to head into the next town, pick up a few things I forgot to ask Bard to get,” Thranduil said, “But seen as there is a lack of bears, mountain lions or highwaymen, how about you go explore around the lake?”  
“Sounds like a good idea, but I’d rather be with you,” Wednesday said.  
“It’s a three hour round trip,” Thranduil replied, “You spent most of yesterday in the car with us so I figured tou would be sick of us by now.”  
“A walk around the lake sounds perfect,” Wednesday said after a moment. She really didn’t fancy spending several more hours trapped in a steel box with the two men. She finished her coffee and headed upstairs, changing into some capri pants and a white t-shirt. On the way back down, she passed Thranduil.  
“Enjoy yourself,” he said, pressing a kiss to her cheek, “I’ll leave the door unlocked for you.”  
“Okay, I love you,” she replied.  
“I love you too,” Thranduil said softly.

Heading out the door, Wednesday’s breath was taken away. The lake was pristine, the whole area was beautiful. It was secluded, surrounded by mountains on all sides with clear blue sky overhead. It was stunning. She headed down the driveway to the lakeside and started to walk along it. She figured if she followed the edge she wouldn’t get lost. For almost half an hour, she saw no one and heard nothing but birdsong with the lake on one side and forest on the other. It was so peaceful and Wednesday could feel herself relaxing. She was brought from her thoughts by the sound of someone running, twigs snapping underfoot.  
“Tilda! Tilda!” a voice called. A young girl who looked like she was in her teens came stumbling out of the trees. She looked surprised for a moment when she saw Wednesday.  
“Oh, hello,” she said, “I’m sorry but have you seen a little girl anywhere? I can’t find my sister.”  
“No, I haven’t,” Wednesday said, shaking her head.  
“Oh, ok,” the girl said, “I don’t recognise you. What’s your name?”  
“My name is Wednesday,” she introduced herself.  
“Oh, you’re Mr Elfking’s girlfriend,” the girl said, grinning, “I’m Sigrid, Bard’s daughter.”  
“I didn’t know Bard had kids,” Wednesday mused.  
“There’s me, my big brother Bain and my sister, Tilda,” Sigrid said, “Could you help me look for her?”  
“Of course,” Wednesday said, “I might not be much use. I’ve never been here before.”  
“That’s ok,” Sigrid said, “My Da says a fresh set of eyes always helps.” Wednesday smirked as she thought of the banter between Bard and Thranduil earlier that morning.  
“Where did you last see Tilda?” she asked.  
“Up near Mr Grey’s house,” Sigrid said, pointing up into the forest, just behind Wednesday.  
“Ok, let’s go there and start,” Wednesday said, turning around. Sigrid trotted up to her side and matched her pace as they headed into the forest.  
“What does your sister look like?” Wednesday asked.  
“Like me, but shorter,” Sigrid said, “Da always says we’re like twins.”  
“What about your mother?”  
“She…she isn’t with us anymore,” Sigrid said quietly, “She died, when Tilda was a baby.”  
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Wednesday replied as they followed a worn track on the forest floor.  
“It’s ok, you didn’t know,” Sigrid said, “So how long will you and Mr Elfking be staying?”  
“I don’t actually know,” Wednesday said, “A few weeks definitely, maybe a month.”  
“Da sometimes says he wishes Mr Elfking and Mr Durinson would move back permanently,” Sigrid mused, “I think he misses his friends.”  
“Does he not have any others?”  
“Well, he works with Dwalin sometimes, but no, I don’t think he has many other friends,” Sigrid said, “A lot of people have moved away from here. There’s very little work.”

Wednesday nodded. She remembered what Thranduil had said, about the town once being prosperous but after Smaug had fallen into decline. It made sense that the people of Thranduil’s generation and their children were starting to leave, looking for work and a better life. Not all were as lucky as Thranduil and Thorin.  
“Oh, look, there’s Mr Grey,” Sigrid said excitedly, “Mr Grey!” Wednesday glanced up and spotted a familiar person stood at the front door of a small log cabin set amongst the trees.  
“Gandalf!” she said.  
“Oh, Wednesday! Sigrid, my dear!” Gandalf said, standing up straight, “I believe I have something that belongs to you.” Sigrid ran forward and through Gandalf’s open door. When Wednesday caught up, she saw a younger girl, maybe eleven years of age, sat on a comfy-looking armchair with two scraped knees. Given that the girl was the spitting image of Sigrid, she guessed it was Tilda.  
“Where did you find her?” she asked the old man.  
“Just up the rise there,” Gandalf said, indicating the slope of the trees as it reached the base of the closest hill, “Looks like she tripped over and skinned her knees. She’ll be fine. What about you? I heard you were out of work.”  
“Yeah, the club where I worked burnt down,” Wednesday said, “What about you? Not currently working?”  
“Technically I am retired,” Gandalf laughed, “About ninety per cent retired, I don’t know if I shall ever retire that last ten, but I thought it was high time I took a little vacation myself. Would you care for a cup of tea?”   
“Yes, thank you.”

For the next hour Wednesday sat in Gandalf’s cosy little sitting room, enjoying a cup of tea and listening to Sigrid and Tilda chatter. They were so upbeat despite the dire circumstances in their hometown. Sigrid had big aspirations, she wanted to be a TV star, she wanted to make lots of money and buy her Da ‘one of the big houses’ so they could all have their own rooms. Tilda too wanted to be an actress but she wanted to be on stage in musicals rather than a camera. If that didn’t work, then she wanted to be a hair stylist. After declaring this, she climbed onto the back of Wednesday’s chair and proceeded to try and braid Wednesday’s hair, pronouncing it to be the loveliest hair she had ever played with. Wednesday moved to sit on the floor so Tilda could play with it better. It wasn’t until a knock came at the door that she realized how late it was getting. Gandalf answered the door to find Bard stood on the doorstep.  
“Afternoon Grey,” he said, “I believe you have my girls?”  
“Oh yes, they’re here,” Gandalf said, stepping aside to let Bard in, “They’ve been no bother. It’s been nice to have some laughter in this house.”  
“Ah, Wednesday!” Bard said as he stepped inside, “I see you’ve met my girls.”  
“Yes, you’ve got quite a talented hair stylist on your hands,” she replied, indicating the braid Tilda had left in her hair.  
“Oh yes, I’ve had multiple French braids myself,” he said, “You should probably warn Thranduil not to sit still too long. She’d love to get her hands on his hair.”  
“Thranduil? Are you Mr Elfking’s girlfriend, Wednesday?” Tilda squealed. Wednesday nodded.  
“Oh! Are you in love?” Tilda asked, clapping her hands, “Are you going to get married? Are you going to have babies?”  
“Tilda!” Bard warned, “What have I told you about getting carried away?”  
“Sorry, Da,” Tilda said solemnly, “Sorry, Wednesday.”  
“It’s ok,” Wednesday said before leaning in to whisper in the girl’s ear, “Yes, we are in love.” Tilda giggled excitedly.  
“Come along you two,” Bard said, “It’s almost dinner time.”  
“Yes, Da,” the girls said in unison and scrambled to their feet.  
“Thank you Mr Grey,” Tilda said.  
“Quite alright, my dear,” Gandalf said as Bard waved goodbye and led the girls out.  
“Is it so late already?” Wednesday asked, “I should probably head back or Thranduil will think I’ve gotten lost!” Gandalf chuckled.  
“Follow the track outside to the left, it will take you to his house,” he said.  
“Goodbye, Gandalf,” Wednesday said, “I’ll see you soon.”  
“I’m sure you will,” Gandalf replied.

Wednesday followed the track as Gandalf had said and soon found herself back at Thranduil’s house. She found Thranduil in the kitchen.  
“You’ve been gone a long time,” he said when he looked up and saw her.  
“I met Bard’s girls,” she said, “The youngest one had gone missing and we found her at Gandalf’s.”  
“Oh yes, the girls, Sigrid and…oh what was the youngest one called? Tilly?”  
“Tilda,” Wednesday corrected him as she stepped up close to him, “She did my hair for me. Bard said to warn you not to sit still too long.”   
“I shall considered myself warned,” he said, wrapping his arms around her, “It’s almost six. What do you say we go to Bofur’s for a quick drink before dinner?”  
“Sounds like a great idea,” Wednesday said before giving him a quick peck on the cheek.  
“Good, Legolas has already headed down,” Thranduil said. He pulled away and took her hand in his.

The day had cooled down considerably and Wednesday wished she had brought a sweater with her but Thranduil wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her in close. She felt warmer almost immediately. It was a slow and steady walk down to the pub. It looked very inviting with light streaming out of all the windows and the muffled sound of music and chatter. They weren’t very far from the door when Legolas quickly hurried out.  
“I don’t think us being here is a good idea,” he said, his eyes downcast.  
“Nonsense, Legolas,” Thranduil said.  
“Look, Dad, I just don’t think we should go in tonight,” Legolas protested as Thranduil pushed past him, “Maybe tomorrow.”  
“Legolas, there is no good reason for us not to go and enjoy ourselves,” Thranduil said firmly, “Why are you not looking at me? You’re hiding something.”  
“Dad…” Legolas started. Thranduil let go of Wednesday and marched over to the door. Legolas and Wednesday followed him. Thranduil pushed it open.

The pub was filled with people, all talking and laughing until they spotted Thranduil and the noise suddenly died down. Wednesday looked around. Up above the bar was a banner saying ‘Congratulations Kili & Tauriel’.  
“Tauriel?” she said, looking at Legolas who kept his eyes down. Thranduil was staring at the banner before turning to a large group. He stepped towards them and they slowly parted. They revealed a young woman with red hair, one that Wednesday recognised from photographs. Tauriel.


	14. Tauriel

Thranduil didn’t move for a full minute. He stood stock still, staring at the young red head. The young man at her side looked as equally shaken and his knuckles turned white as his hand tightened on the car seat he held. When Wednesday regained her senses, she stepped forward, reaching out to grab Thranduil’s hand, but he stepped away before she could touch him.

The crowd that was gathered around the young couple stood still as Thranduil approached. Wednesday had always thought of him as tall but as he strode across the room, the perfect embodiment of calm and strength, she realised just how tall he was, head above everyone else. He stopped just in front of Tauriel, offering her a small smile before turning to the infant in the car seat.  
“And who do we have here?” he asked, his deep voice vibrating around the room. Everyone in the room seemed to let out their collective breath.  
“Ho…Holly,” Tauriel choked out before nudging the man at her side. He quickly put the car seat down and lifted out the small baby it held. Thranduil took the child into his arms as the people around them began to talk again, all the tension starting to dissipate.

Wednesday moved forward, Legolas close behind her. Thranduil had a broad smile on his face as he looked down at the child in his arms.  
“Hello Holly,” he said gently. Holly blinked up at him with wide, blue eyes. Legolas brushed past his father to embrace Tauriel. Wednesday held back a little, she didn’t know them, it wasn’t her place.  
“She is beautiful,” Thranduil said as he returned Holly to her father, “Congratulations Tauriel, and you, Kili.” Kili nodded as he held his daughter.  
“I’m sorry,” Tauriel said quickly, “For lying.” Thranduil reached out to brush her copper hair back..  
“There is nothing to forgive,” he said. He turned to Wednesday and his smile faltered.

Wednesday glanced back over her shoulder and saw Thorin and Fili approaching. Thranduil headed to the door, clearly in no hurry to be in Thorin’s presence. Wednesday was about to follow when she saw Bard put down his drink and follow him. Bard gestured to her to not rush out.  
“Miss McQueen,” Thorin said, “A pleasure and a surprise to see you again.”  
“And you, Mr Durinson,” she replied politely.  
“You haven’t met my youngest nephew, this is Kili, Fili’s brother,” Thorin said, indicating the dark-haired man who currently held the infant Holly, “Kili, this is Wednesday McQueen, Thranduil’s…..I’m not sure what.”  
“Squeeze, lover,” suggested Fili.

“Partner,” Wednesday said, “Girlfriend, if it suits you better.” She shot a quick glare at Fii, a reminder of the bargain they had struck months before. His face quickly dropped and he became suddenly very interested in his drink. She turned back to Tauriel and Kili, now understanding some of the tension in the room. If Thranduil and Thorin didn’t get along, a relationship between Thranduil’s ward and Thorin’s nephew was bound to put people on edge.  
“It was nice to meet you, all three of you,” she said, offering them a sincere smile and a glance down at the baby, “I should find Thranduil.” She moved away and headed for the door.

Once outside, she found Thranduil leaning against the low wall, Bard next to him.  
“You mean this has been going on for six years and you never noticed?” Bard asked.  
“No,” Thranduil ground out, “She went everywhere with Legolas, I had no idea. A Durinson? How? How did they even meet?”  
“I have no idea,” Bard replied as Wednesday walked over towards them, “No one round here knew until Christmas. We were all in Bofur’s, just finishing up, must have been about two in the morning. Suddenly Kili’s phone rang and he ran out the door. We heard Frerin’s old truck start up and he was gone. Came back around dawn, with her and they’ve been hid away at Balin’s ever since. I only found out this evening that she’d had the baby.” Thranduil groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. Bard looked up and saw Wednesday.

“I’ll head back in,” he said, leaving them alone. Wednesday stood in front of Thranduil for a moment before reaching up and pulling his hand away from his face. He blinked at her for a moment.

“You and Thorin need to work this out,” she said simply, “Whether you like it or not, you’re family now. It won’t be fair on anyone if you two won’t stay in the same room as each other. You said it yourself, you’re the closest thing Tauriel has to a parent.”  
“Why concern yourself?” Thranduil questioned. Wednesday let out a sigh.  
“Honestly, I don’t trust Thorin to not interfere in how that child is raised,” she said. It was the truth, from what little she had seen of the man, he seemed to run his family like a business, with an iron fist. From his veiled threats to Ori, to Fili’s terror at seeing one of his vices out in the world, she didn’t trust the man to keep out of Kili and Tauriel’s relationship at all.

Thranduil blinked at her in surprise.  
“You see it too?” he asked. She nodded.  
“Tauriel needs someone in her corner to make Thorin back off,” she said, linking her fingers with his.  
“I don’t even know where to start with repairing my relationship with her,” he replied, “It was not just Legolas and I who exchanged cross words when they left.”  
“You already did back there,” Wednesday reassured him, using her knee to part his legs enough to slide between them, “But my suggestion would be to install yourself as Holly’s favourite grandpa.” Thranduil cringed.  
“Grandpa,” he winced, “The word makes me feel old.” Wednesday ran a hand through his hair. He had started growing it back from when it had been cut, apparently missing the ‘hippy’ look.  
“You aren’t old,” she said, “You don’t have nearly as much grey hair as Thorin.” Thranduil snorted with laughter but didn’t resist when she pulled his head down to hers to give him a kiss. His arms slipped around her waist as he flicked his tongue out to taste her lips. She let out a sigh of contentment.

An cough from behind them had the pair pull apart abruptly. Wednesday looked over her shoulder and saw a friendly-looking man stood there, a pint of Guinness in each hand and a huge grin on his face.  
“Wednesday, this is Bofur, he owns the place,” Thranduil said gesturing to the man. Bofur grinned even more.  
“And you are the infamous Miss McQueen that Balin mentioned,” Bofur said, a faint Irish accent in his voice.  
“Word has gotten around about me pretty quickly,” Wednesday observed.  
“Well, not much happens out here and everyone knows everyone so it gets around fast,” Bofur said before offering the two pint glasses, “Here, to wet the baby’s head.” Thranduil and Wednesday took the offered drinks.  
“Now, don’t forget, pint for every pound, and a shot for every ounce,” Bofur laughed before turning and heading back in.

“He seems nice,” Wednesday said before taking a sip of the stout.  
“Who? Bofur? He could make friends with a brick wall,” Thranduil said, sipping his own drink, “You’re right though, about Thorin. A truce between us will benefit everyone, especially with Smaug back in the picture.”  
“I wholeheartedly agree,” Thorin spoke, making Wednesday jump slightly. He was stood in the doorway of the pub, looking over at them; a pint of Guinness in one hand and a cane in the other.  
“As displeased as I was to learn that Kili had kept this relationship of his from me,” he continued as he walked over to them, “You are right. Woodland Realm and Oakenshield are the only Top Ten Companies in the area yet to allow Smaug to meddle in their affairs. If we maintain a united front, we can protect Lake Dale from further harm from that worm, perhaps even heal past injuries. As it stands, I have a business proposition for you.”  
“What exactly?” Thranduil asked. His shoulders had tensed; this rivalry was not going to be easily cast aside it seemed.  
“This is not the time or place,” Thorin said, “Perhaps I can come to you tomorrow morning, say nine o’clock, I will bring my proposal in writing for you.”  
“Make it ten,” Thranduil replied, “I am on vacation with my family.”  
“Ten o’clock it is,” Thorin agreed, “I shall see you then, Elfking.”  
“Thranduil,” he interjected, “Come now Thorin, it would appear we are family. We should save the Elfkings and Durinsons for business only.”  
“Very well then, Thranduil,” Thorin confirmed, “I shall see you tomorrow. Miss…..Wednesday.” He nodded to her before turning and heading back inside.  
“There,” Wednesday smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind Thranduil’s ear, “First names.”  
“I feel dirty,” Thranduil commented. She playfully slapped his shoulder as he chuckled.

They stood that way for a long time, Wednesday between his powerful, long legs. The two of them just stood there, sipping their stout and looking out at the calm lake. It was only when both glasses stood on the wall, empty and Thranduil had taken her into his arms again that he spoke.  
“I could do this forever,” he said, looking down at her, “Stand here by the lake. With you.” He bent down and kissed her forehead gently. A gentle kiss that sent a shiver down her spine as she realised that being by the lake for the rest of her life was not just her vision. 

It was theirs.


	15. Pride

Wednesday hadn’t even realised that Thranduil’s secluded lake house even had a study until he opened the door to it the following morning, fifteen minutes before Thorin was due to arrive. The room smelt a little musty but nothing an open window wouldn’t fix.  
“I wonder what Thorin’s proposition is,” she mused as she looked around the room. Thranduil sank into the high-backed leather chair behind the desk.  
“I honestly have no idea,” Thranduil replied, “Established businesses such as his aren’t my usual clientele.” He gently ran a hand over the mahogany desk.  
“It’s been a long time since I sat at this desk,” he mused, “I was sorting through my father’s estate. Bard was here, keeping me supplied with brandy and sanity. But perhaps coffee is more suitable for today.”  
“I’ll go make some,” Wednesday said. She heard the chair scrape back and turned in time to see Thranduil grab her arm and pull her down into his lap. He instantly wrapped his arms around her and kissed her.  
“Thank you,” he breathed against her lips, “For being here.”  
“Where else would I be?” she replied. He bent down and kissed her again, tongue delving between her lips to coax hers out. One hand slid down her hips and over her thigh, the feel of his fingertips sending electricity coursing through her veins.

A knock at the door had them pulling apart. Thorin stood in the doorway, one eyebrow raised.  
“You know for a man your size, you move incredibly quietly,” Wednesday remarked, climbing out of Thranduil’s lap.  
“It’s a gift,” Thorin commented, “I hope you will not be a distraction today, I need his full attention.” He looked between the pair as Wednesday moved to the door.  
“Don’t worry, he’s all yours,” she replied, “You’ll only see me in a few minutes when I bring the coffee and then I’m out the house.”  
“Thank you,” Thorin said, shrugging off his coat. Wednesday took it.  
“Milk, sugar?” she asked.  
“No thank you, black is fine,” Thorin replied.  
“I won’t be long,” she said, heading out the study.

After hanging Thorin’s coat up on a hook by the front door, she headed into the kitchen. There was a knock at the front door. She glanced over and saw a young man, no more than sixteen years old, peering nervously through the glass. He made eye contact with Wednesday who gestured for him to come in. He came in, but didn’t go further than the lobby.  
“Sorry Miss McQueen,” he said, “My name is Bain. My Da sent me to tend to Mr Elfkings garden as he’s working with Mr Dwalin today. He said I should introduce myself so I don’t alarm you.”  
“You’re Bard’s son?” Wednesday said as she poured the coffee for Thorin and Thranduil.  
“Yes Miss,” Bain said, nodding. The poor lad seemed nervous.  
“You can call me Wednesday,” she said, before looking over at the boy. He was quite scrawny-looking, but not the kind of scrawny that came from repeated growth spurts normal for his age.  
“Did…did you have breakfast this morning?” she asked. Bain hesitated.  
“No, Miss, I mean, Wednesday,” he said, “Da forgot to go to the store yesterday and he had to rush off this morning. There was just enough bread for my sisters to have some toast…”   
“Bain, would you like some cereal before you start?” she asked. Bain nodded quickly. Wednesday retrieved the cereal, milk and a bowl for the young man and placed them on the counter. He rushed forward and began to help himself. Wednesday picked up the two cups of coffee and headed for the study.

She tapped the door with her foot.  
“Enter,” came Thranduil’s voice. She pushed the door open with her hip and slipped inside.  
“Holly is a Durinson by name and birth,” Thorin said as he took his coffee from Wednesday, “It makes sense for her to go on mine.”  
“Very well,” Thranduil replied, “Then I shall cover her education.”  
“Agreed,” said Thorin.  
“This doesn’t sound like a business proposal,” Wednesday observed as she handed Thranduil his coffee.  
“We decided we should discuss the financial support we are giving Tauriel and Kili first,” Thranduil said, scribbling on the paper in front of him, “Tauriel and Holly are to be transferred onto Thorin’s health insurance but I shall be paying for Holly’s education.”  
“Oh,” said Wednesday, “Well, that’s good of you.” She paused for a moment.  
“Actually, seen as you haven’t started on the actual business yet, may I have a word with you both?” she asked. The two men looked at her in curiosity.  
“I know you said that Smaug devastated the prosperity of almost everyone around here,” she said, “I’m just wondering if that included Bard?”  
“Why? What’s happened?” Thranduil asked.  
“I’m only saying this because he is your friend, but his son just arrived to tend to the gardens in his place this morning, and he’s not eaten,” Wednesday said. Thranduil and Thorin looked at each other.  
“I shall have Balin send over some groceries later,” Thorin said, “Bard’s just been employed by my cousin, Dwalin. His fortunes should change soon.” He turned to look at Wednesday.  
“Thank you, Miss McQueen,” he said, “Bard is too proud a man to ask for help sometimes. Keep an eye on the children, anything else we can do to aid them.”  
“I’ll be sure to speak up,” Wednesday said. She watched as the two men made eye contact and raised their coffee cups in unison, an agreement to watch over their mutual friend.  
“So,” Thranduil said, prompting Wednesday to head to the door, “This Orcrist project of yours.”

Having nothing else to do that morning, Wednesday headed outside to check on Bain. He was already hard at work, tugging up the weeds from the flowerbeds. He declined any assistance from Wednesday but happily chatted away. It appeared that missing meals was not as frequent an occurrence as Wednesday had feared, but merely that with his new job, Bard had simply forgotten to ensure his cupboards were stocked. Bain said, in complete honesty, his father sometimes forgot he was the lone parent, despite his wife having passed years before. So it often fell to Bain and Sigrid to look after Tilda, to remind their father about paying bills, buying groceries, all the things their mother had done. Money was tight, but the little family were happy.

Thranduil and Thorin also emerged just over an hour later, with Thranduil promising to consider Thorin’s business proposal once the final projected numbers were in.   
“You are doing a fine job there, young Master Lakeman,” Thorin commented as he passed the flowerbed Bain was working on, “You shall have to come tend to mine.”  
“I thought you already employed someone for that, sir,” Bain responded.  
“Compared to this,” Thorin said, gesturing to the flowerbed, “I find their work sorely lacking. If you want a job, it is yours, provided it does not interfere with your studies.”  
“Thank you, Mr Durinson,” Bain replied, grinning. Thorin replicated with a grin of his own before turning to Wednesday.  
“Miss McQueen….Wednesday, thank you for the coffee,” he said, “And for bringing that matter to our attention.”  
“You’re welcome, Thorin,” she replied. Thorin turned and nodded to Thranduil before heading off down the driveway.

Once he was out of sight, Thranduil wrapped his arms around Wednesday.  
“Have I told you recently that I love you?” he asked. Wednesday grinned as she heard Bain quickly retreat around the side of the house.  
“Not today,” she laughed as he leaned in to kiss her.  
“In that case,” he replied, “I love you.” He captured her mouth with his and pulled her in tight. Wednesday could feel his fingers digging in to her hips, reminding her of the animalistic nature of their love making that she liked so much.  
“All I could think about in there, was how I wanted to bend you over the desk and…” he was cut off by the sound of someone shouting Bain’s name. The pair looked around and saw Sigrid running up the driveway, pulling Tilda by the hand. Bain came dashing back around the side of the house. Tears were streaming down Tilda’s face.  
“What’s wrong?” Bain asked.  
“Tilda tripped out in the woods and her boot split open,” Sigrid said, “Please tell me you still have some of that glue.” She held out a small brown boot in one hand. Bain took the boot from Sigrid and looked it over.  
“I can’t fix this,” he said. Tilda let out a sob.  
“Da’s going to be so angry,” she cried.

Thranduil released Wednesday and walked over to the three children. He took the boot from Bain’s hand.  
“How many times have you repaired this?” he asked, “Honestly, Bain.”  
“Three maybe four times,” Bain answered, flushing red.  
“It’s at least half a size too small for her,” Thranduil stated. The three looked at the ground.  
“Your father can’t afford to replace them, can he?” he asked. All of them shook their heads. Thranduil sighed.   
“Come here, Tilda,” he said, extending a hand to the youngest who was still crying. She dropped her sisters hand and took his. Wednesday watched as he crouched down to her height.  
“Don’t be upset,” he said calmly, “I will take you all to the store now and I will buy you all new boots.”  
“We don’t need charity,” Bain grunted.  
“But you want your sister crippled by shoes that are too small?”  
“No.”  
“Then I will be buying you all new boots,” he said, “That way, it will be at least a year before your father need worry again. Now, come here, Tilda.” He lifted Tilda up on to his back and started striding off down the driveway. Sigrid and Bain stared after him for a moment before rushing to catch up, Wednesday close behind them.

*

Wednesday gazed up at Thranduil as they walked hand in hand along the side of the lake. Bard’s children were just ahead of them, heading home in their new boots that were far sturdier than their old ones. They would certainly last a full year, plenty of time for Bard to put aside for new ones.  
“What?” Thranduil asked.  
“You did really well with Tilda,” she replied, “Do you ever think about being a father again?” Thranduil slowed.  
“Are you…”  
“No!” Wednesday cut him off, seeing where his mind was going, “No. But I will admit, it is something I have been thinking about recently.” Thranduil nodded and continued walking.  
“I knew this may be something we would have to talk about,” he said, “Given that you are so much younger than I, it was only reasonable that you may want a family of your own. In all honesty, I haven’t given it much thought. Is that what you want?” He stopped again and turned to face her, his hands coming up to her shoulders. Wednesday looked up at him, fixing her gaze on his clear, blue eyes.  
“It is,” she replied honestly, “I never thought it would be. But when I met you, that changed. I….”

She hesitated for a moment, feeling his hands hold her more tightly.  
“I want to have a baby with you,” she said finally. Thranduil didn’t say anything, he bent down and kissed her instead, his hands slipping to her waist instead. Wednesday’s hands slid up over his chest, feeling the soft material of his shirt and the hardened flesh underneath it.  
“I am not quite ready to be a father again,” he replied after he pulled back, “But it is something I want too. For now, let’s just enjoy being around one another before we bring someone else in to our lives.” Wednesday nodded, feeling a faint twang of disappointment as they resumed walking. Part of her had wanted him to say ‘yes, let’s go home and throw your birth control in the trash’. But with his son and Tauriel so recently back in his life, and now Holly, she wasn’t all that surprised he wanted to wait.

Bard was waiting at the door of his house when the three children scampered up to it.  
“Now where have you three been?” he joked. The children laughed and slipped past him into the house. He watched them go and Wednesday noticed him do a double take at their feet. He turned and looked over at Thranduil, who merely nodded. Bard returned the gesture and the message was clear. He was grateful but it was never to be mentioned or brought up. His pride wouldn’t allow it.


	16. Promises, promises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut, NSFW.

It was the feel of Thranduil’s lips trailing down her spine that woke Wednesday a few days later. The gentle, warm pressure drew her from sleep with a satisfied sigh. It was the gentle nip of his teeth that woke her completely. She tried to lift herself up onto her hands and knees but found herself trapped by his body over hers.

“Minx,” he whispered in her ear. She grinned. It had been hot in the night, and the large t-shirt she had gone to bed in now lay on the floor, leaving her gloriously bare. One hand smoothed down her back and over her rump to stroke between her now parted legs. Thranduil let out a little choked noise when she instantly angled her hips in an attempt to take his fingers inside her. His hand withdrew and he rolled her over, his lips instantly on hers. All gentleness ceased and he claimed her mouth with almost violent force, tongue tangling with hers as his hands forced her legs apart. His hips rutted against hers, rubbing his hard length against her as he grunted and growled deep in his chest.

His mouth moved from hers to her neck, nipping and sucking on the skin as his hands moulded around her breasts, squeezing and teasing. She mewled in pleasure as his mouth closed over one breast and his fingers returned to her core. She cried out when he slid two large fingers inside her, pumping his hand. He groaned into her breast as she felt waves of wet heat roll from her.  
“Thranduil,” she breathed as he pulled back. He lifted her legs over his hips, and slowly pressed into her. Their breaths were coming in steady pants now as Thranduil began to thrust into her.  
“Keep your eyes on me,” he breathed. He touched his forehead to hers as he continued, eyes locked with hers. Wednesday’s hands gripped his back as he hit the sweet spot and she cried out. Her eyes shut.  
“Look at me,” Thranduil commanded. She opened her eyes again, feeling herself tighten around him as she neared orgasm.  
“Wednesday,” he breathed, swelling inside her as he quickened his pace, “I love you.” Wednesday could only cry out as her body shook, the pleasure he was giving taking over. Soon his own cries mingled with hers as he spent himself inside her.

They lay in the afterglow, Wednesday encircled in his arms, both with smiles of satisfaction on their faces. Thranduil ran his fingers through Wednesday’s long hair.  
“I hate to spoil the moment,” he started.  
“Then don’t,” she replied, running his fingers up and down his chest.  
“I’m afraid I must,” he said, “I have to go back in to the city today.”  
“What?” said Wednesday, propping herself up on her elbow, “We’re supposed to be on vacation together. You spent the entire morning talking to Thorin about business the other day and at least an hour on the phone every night.”  
“I know, if I could get out of this, I would,” Thranduil explained, sitting up, “But I am the only one who can deal with this. But I promise.” His hand came up to cup her head and he eased her back down onto the bed. He leaned in and gave her a languid kiss.  
“I promise that when I get back tonight,” he lowered his voice, “I will take you into my study and bend you over that desk.” Wednesday grinned as he kissed her again.  
“Deal,” she said.

*

After a long bubble bath, Wednesday curled up on one of the big leather couches in the living room with a book. The house was very quiet. Thranduil had taken Legolas with him, leaving her very much alone. ‘It’s just one day,’ she thought to herself, the words on the page blurring together as her concentration drifted, ‘He’ll be back tonight.’ She was still slightly annoyed. They were supposed to be spending time together and so far all he had done was run around and do business. She sighed and tried to start again on her book.

She was distracted again moments later by a knock on the front door. She set her book down and headed over. It was Balin.  
“Ah, Miss McQueen, Wednesday,” he said, “A pleasure to see you again my dear.”  
“Balin, a pleasure to see you too,” she replied, “What brings you out here?”  
“My cousin, Thorin,” Balin answered, “Apparently retirement means I am now his errand boy.” There was only humour in the old man’s voice and he chuckled to himself.  
“Anyway, he asked to deliver this to Thranduil,” he said, holding up a large brown envelope, “Is he about?”  
“No, he’s gone back into the city with Legolas,” Wednesday said, “But I can leave it in his study for him.”  
“He’s left you here all alone? That man is a poor host indeed,” Balin said, shaking his head, “Drop this in the study, put your shoes on and you can come back to mine. I’m sure I would appreciate the company.”  
“Thank you Balin,” Wednesday said. She took the envelope and hurried off to Thranduil’s study. She briefly paused to look at the large desk and Thranduil’s promise to bend her over it later echoed in her head.

When they made love, his whole attention was on her, she was his sole focus and she had never felt more beautiful. Even when dancing, when room full of men’s eyes had been fixed on her, she’d never felt that way. She’d felt like a piece of meat at times, surrounded by hungry, salivating carnivores. But not with Thranduil. By day, he was a loving, attentive partner who tried to keep her involved in almost every aspect of his life, enjoying her companionship and offering his in return. At night, when they were alone, he practically worshipped her, eager to explore every inch of her body. She smiled at the thought. She couldn’t have wished for a better man in her life. The only thing that made her uneasy was her lack of financial independence. It had been almost a month since The Firehouse had burnt down, Thranduil had been supporting her since.

When they got back to the city, Wednesday thought, she would have to look for a new job.

*

The stroll down to Balin’s lakeside home was relaxed, the old man chatting away about the comings and goings on the lake. It seemed those that hadn’t been hit by Smaug’s influence had moved away to the city but rather than leave their homes vacant or sell them, they had kept them. Like Thranduil, they employed those left behind to maintain their homes. It wasn’t the perfect solution, but it kept a lot of families heads above water.  
“Are Kili and Tauriel still with you?” Wednesday asked as they neared the house.  
“Aye, they are,” Balin said, “Truth be told, it’s been nice to have them. I’ve never married but I have often wished to have a family. They try to keep out the way as much as they can, but with Holly being just a bairn, there’s always something lying about.”  
“And it doesn’t bother you?”  
“Ah no! Just makes the house seem more like a home,” he grinned, “Here we are. Home sweet home!”

The house was built on the edge of the lake, on high stilts so it stood above the water. The large windows on all sides would allow in daylight all day. In one, Wednesday could see Tauriel hanging strings of star-shaped lights from it.  
“Ah, she’s finally getting the nursery finished,” Balin commented as they got closer, “Oh, and there’s Kili.” Wednesday spotted the new father. His pants were rolled up to his knees as he walked through the shallow water. In his arms, he held a bundle wrapped in a white blanket. Holly. His eyes were fixed on her, a huge smile on his face as he talked to her in a low voice. He spotted Balin and Wednesday.  
“Balin,” he called, waving one hand.  
“Kili, you remember Wednesday?” Balin said. Kili nodded.  
“Nice to see you again,” he said as he walked to shore and over to them.  
“How is she?” Wednesday asked.  
“Perfect,” said Kili, “Absolutely perfect. Just like her mother.” He glanced up. Tauriel was leaning on the barrier of the porch above them, smiling down at her little family.  
“In case you see him before we do, could you tell Thranduil ‘thank you’ for agreeing to pay for her education?” Kili asked, “We never thought that far ahead in truth and well, it’s just one less thing to worry about.”  
“Of course,” Wednesday replied. A faint twinge of jealousy echoed in her heart. She shook it off. She was being silly. From what everyone said, Kili and Tauriel had been together for years. Thranduil and she had only been together less than a year. He was right; it was too soon for talk of children just yet.  
“So Wednesday,” Balin interrupted her thought, “Do you like chess?”

*

“And I take your King,” Balin said in victory. Wednesday threw her hands in mock surrender.  
“I never said I was any good,” she said.  
“Oh come now, dear, you played admirably,” Balin consoled her. The front door slammed and heavy, thudding steps moved towards the large library that they were sat in. The door opened and a large, bald man with huge dirty hands came in.  
“Ah, Wednesday, this is my brother, Dwalin,” Balin said, gesturing to him, “Dwalin, this is Thranduil’s new lady friend…”  
“Wednesday, aye,” Dwalin said, “I saw her at Bofur’s the other day, and Bard made mention of her this mornin’.” He walked towards them and offered a hand to Wednesday.  
“A pleasure to meet you lass, Dwalin, owner of Fundin And Sons Lumberyard and Builders Merchant,” he said. He then noticed the dirt and grime that covered his hands so much, his tattoos could barely be seen.  
“Ach, sorry, lass,” he said, attempting to wipe his hand on his jeans.  
“It’s alright,” Wednesday laughed, “Wednesday McQueen.”  
“You’re a fine lookin’ woman,” Dwalin said, smiling, “We were startin’ to worry that old Thrandy had gone off the fairer sex altogether, weren’t we Balin?” He let out a deep roaring laugh as he turned and left the room.  
“That’s your brother?” she said, tilting her head slightly.  
“Aye, supposedly,” Balin said, “Though I suspect he was found in the cabbage patch.” Wednesday laughed. She saw the time on the clock.  
“Oh my god, it’s gone seven already,” she said, “I should head back or Thranduil may think I’ve run off with someone.”  
“You did. You ran off and kept an old man company for an afternoon,” Balin said, “There’s not many folks out here who would sit and play chess and shoot the breeze with me. They’re all young with far too much to do.”  
“You’re very sweet like Balin,” Wednesday said as she stood.  
“It’s all the sugar in my tea,” he replied, moving to stand. She saw him wince slightly. He’d been walking with a cane earlier.  
“Don’t get up if it hurts,” she said quickly, “I can see myself out.”  
“Are you sure? These old bones aren’t what they used to be,” Balin said.  
“Quite sure,” she replied, “I’ll see you soon, Balin.”  
“Goodbye dear,” Balin said.

Heading back to Thranduil’s house, she wondered if she should have left a note, telling him where she had gone. Then again, she had no idea what time he was due back. If he wasn’t back when she returned, she should probably make a start on dinner. Maybe a soup, something that could be easily reheated if they were late. As she approached the house, she noted that there was light coming from their bedroom window but the rest of the house was in darkness. Odd. She had made sure all the lights were turned off before leaving. Perhaps Thranduil was there waiting to give her some romantic surprise and Legolas had scarpered for the evening. She grinned. Perhaps the desk wasn’t the only thing he planned on bending her over.

She headed inside.  
“Thranduil, I’m back,” she called. Silence greeted her.  
“Hello?” she tried again, “Thranduil? Legolas?” Still nothing. Very odd. She felt a little uneasy. Had someone broken in to the house whilst she had been out.  
“Hello?” she called again as she headed up the stairs.  
“Thranduil! Legolas!” she called their names, her stomach sinking with each moment when her calls went unanswered. She made it to the bedroom door and gingerly pushed the door open. It swung open, revealing the room and she gasped.


	17. Perfect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut everywhere!

It took a moment for Wednesday to remember to breathe. She couldn’t believe what lay in front of her. Dozens of candles on every single surface, their flames flickering in the light of the setting sun. Garlands of white flowers hung from the ceiling, making it feel like she had stepped into a fairy kingdom, their small white petals falling gently to the floor. Scattered rose petals on the floor, leading a trail from the door to the bed. Above it hung a small blue velvet box, descended from an almost-invisible thread, a note reading ‘open me’ attached to it.

 

She finally released the breath she had been holding and stepped into the room. It felt like the bottom of her stomach had dropped out and her heart was starting to pound. She reached out and took hold of the small blue box. Her hands were shaking and her palms were starting to sweat. She managed to prise it open. Inside was her grandmother’s ring, glinting in the light from the sun and the candles. Her eyes stung with tears. He’d found it. He’d found the ring. She took the ring out of the box and held it tight, unable to believe that she was holding it again. She heard footsteps behind her and glanced over her shoulder. It was Thranduil. He moved forwards, reaching one hand out to turn her to face him. His eyes locked on hers.  
“Marry me,” he said. His voice was firm and confident. Wednesday blinked up at him, her mind blank for a moment as she tried to process what he had said.   
“Yes,” she breathed, finally.

 

Thranduil quickly took her into his arms, holding her tightly against his chest for a moment before his head dropped down and he took her mouth with his. His tongue invaded her mouth and stole her breath away as she clung to the front of his shirt. His hands slid over hers and his long fingers closed over the ring she still held. He parted from her and took her left hand in his, sliding the ring onto her finger. A perfect fit. He smiled down at her.  
“Come with me,” he whispered gently, leading her out the bedroom and back towards the stairs. When they reached the stairs, he lifted her up so her legs wrapped around his waist. He held her up with one arm whilst the other caressed her back, sending shivers of pleasure running up and down her spine as he walked down the stairs. Wednesday, almost overcome by the wave of desire he was creating, ran her hands through his platinum hair and traced the outlines of his face, unable to believe that someone so perfect and sexy wanted her forever.

 

It wasn’t until she glanced over his shoulder and saw the kitchen in the distance that she realised where he was going. The study. She shivered in anticipation. He’d already promised to bend her over the desk. The thought that it would actually happen sent rushes of wet heat shooting between her legs and she whimpered as he laid her out on the mahogany. She could feel him, hard, hot and straining against the fabric of his clothes. She sat up, pulling him against her by his belt and began to undo the tricky leather contraption. He grinned down at her.  
“So eager,” he said softly, tucking her hair behind her ear.   
“You promised,” she replied as she pulled the black leather belt from it’s loops and tossed it over her shoulder.   
“That I did,” he agreed, pulling her from the desk as she started working on the buttons on his shirt. He helped her, his strong, deft fingers making short work of the shirt and casting it on the floor. Wednesday’s thin sweater and t-shirt soon joined it as the two of them worked together in a bid to be rid of their restrictive clothing. She slid off the desk and yanked his pants down, kneeling before him, her top half naked, her bottom half still clothed.  
“Wednesday…” he breathed as she ran her fingers down the stiff ridge on the underside of his cock. His hand slipped into her hair, entwining his fingers in the strands. Wednesday leaned in and ran her tongue from the base to the tip before closing her lips around him.

 

He let out a deep groan, his grip tightening on her scalp as she swirled her tongue around him. The hand that wasn't in her hair tightened into a fist at his side as she began to bob her head back and forth, taking him a little deeper each time. His groans started to take on a desperate whimper at the end. His fist closed in her hair and he pulled her back until his quivering length slid from her mouth. He pulled her to her feet and turned her around.

 

She braced herself on the desk, gripping the mahogany wood as if her life depended on it. She felt his fingertips slip under the waistband of her pants and start to ease them down, placing kisses on each inch of skin as it was revealed. Wednesday couldn't help but bite her lip as she felt his strong fingers close around one ankle and guide her foot out. The raw strength in his body amazed her. He spent little to no time at the gym after all. He ran his hands up the backs of her legs, gently parting them as he went. Her breath came in short pants as she felt his own growing ever closer to her core. Just the thought of him being there sent shivers down her spine and heat rushing through her veins to pool between her legs.  
“Thranduil,” she whimpered as his thumbs parted her lower lips. Next thing she knew, his mouth was on her, his tongue lapping inside her. She cried out, throwing her head back. She ground her hips against him, making him wrap his arms around her midsection. One hand slid down and began to draw slow circles on her clit as he grunted in appreciation.

 

Curses fell from Wednesday’s mouth as her legs began to quiver and shake. It was like he could read her mind, knowing exactly where to put his hands, how hard to press, how deep to lick at her, how to drive her into sweet oblivion.  
“Thranduil,” she panted, “I’m going to come.” In an instant, he had pulled away and she almost mewled in disappointment until she felt his hands on her hips, holding her in place as he lined up behind her. One hand slid up her back and pressed between her shoulder blades. She lowered herself so her front was pressed against the desks as the blunt head of his cock pushed against her.  
“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he growled, “That perfect body laid out on my desk.” He began to press into her, tortuously slow.  
“About how tight and wet that beautiful pussy is,” he grunted, “About how perfectly my cock fits inside you. About how much I want to fuck you on this desk, in my chair, everywhere.” He let out a gasp as he reached his hilt.

“Oh fuck, you're perfect, Wednesday,” he panted. He leaned over her and put one hand around her neck. He lifted her up slightly off the desk and turned her head to face him. He kissed her, his tongue tangling with hers as his fingers kept a firm but gentle hold of her throat. She vaguely heard the swish before his free hand made sharp contact with her bottom. She cried out, feeling herself clench around him and more fire dance through her body.  
“Good?” He asked.  
“Oh, God, yes,” she whimpered, pressing herself back into him, silently begging for more. He slapped her again, this time accompanying it with a deep thrust. Wednesday's back arched but Thranduil maintained his hold on her throat.  
“Do you want me to stop?” He whispered in her ear, his voice softening for a moment.  
“No,” was her reply.  
“Good. Now, what was the name you and the other girls gave me at the Firehouse?” He knew the answer, he just wanted to hear her say it.  
“Sir,” she purred, smiling as he began to thrust again.  
“Yeah, that,” he grunted, “I like that.”

 

He pounded into her with a ferocity she had not experienced with him before, his hand maintaining it’s grip on her throat. Wednesday cried out, every muscle in her body quivering with the exquisite pleasure he was giving her.  
“Beg me,” he growled in her ear as she felt the tightening coil in her belly, knowing it was sending shudders through her whole body and tightening around his cock.   
“Beg me to let you come,” he growled.   
“Please, sir,” she whimpered, “Please, let me come, please! Sir!” His hand slipped from her throat to her hips, pulling her tight against him as he gave a few deep thrust. She felt the tension in her lower body snap.   
“Fuuuuu……..” she wasn’t able to complete the word, nothing came out. The only sound was Thranduil’s desperate groans as he throbbed inside her followed by him trying to catch his breath, his cock still twitching and his hot seed still spurting inside her. Wednesday’s arms shook and gave way so she collapsed onto the desk. The muscles in her legs were still twitching, as was the man who was still inside her.   
“Oh, fuck, oh, Wednesday,” he moaned, “Fuck, you are so perfect.”

 

He stepped back, slipping from her as he moved. Wednesday whimpered as she felt a warm trickle down her thigh.  
“You came a lot,” she said softly.   
“Yes,” Thranduil agreed, “I couldn’t help myself. I’ve been thinking about this for a long while.” She eased herself up off the desk and he instantly wrapped his arms around her.   
“How long?” she asked.   
“Since the moment I saw you dance in the cathedral,” he admitted. She looked up at him.   
“You’ve wanted to ask me to marry you since Christmas?” she said. He nodded.   
“But I couldn’t,” he said, “Not until I could get this back.” His hand took hers, holding it at just the right angle so the light reflected off the precious stones in her grandmother’s ring.   
“It all had to be perfect,” he said, his thumb rubbing the back of her hand, “Perfect moment, perfect setting, perfect ring, perfect you.” He leaned in and kissed her tenderly, his hands holding her tightly. And in that moment, she knew. She would be his forever, and forever was just beginning.


	18. Dis

Thranduil barely seemed able  to keep his hands off Wednesday as she tried to put her clothes back on. Every few minutes, he would pull her into his arms, pressing his mouth to hers, tasting her, running his hands over her body. When she attempted to put her bra back on, he tried to undo it again, kissing her neck to distract her, pulling the lace cup down and teasing her nipple. She let out a moan before pushing him away with as much force as she could muster.

“Did you not get enough already?” she laughed, reaching for her shirt.   
“Hell no,” Thranduil said, “I could never get enough of you.” He took hold of her waist and pulled her close again.   
“I kind of want to lock the front door and take you to bed for a week,” he grinned, running his fingers through her hair.   
“Oh, now that sounds nice,” Wednesday said, slipping her fingertips under the waistband of his pants, “Maybe we should send Legolas home a little early.”    
“Sounds like a plan,” he replied, gently tugging her hair so her head fell backwards and he could nip her neck. No sooner had his lips touched her throat than a faint ringing noise came from his back pocket. Thranduil groaned and pulled back, reaching into his pocket. Wednesday took the opportunity to pull the last of her clothes back on.   
“Speak of the devil,” Thranduil muttered as he tapped his phone to answer the call, “Legolas, your timing is as poor as always.” He paused for a moment.   
“Actually, she said yes, hence the poor timing,” he continued his conversation. There was another moment of silence.   
“Well that sounds like a nice idea,” he said, “Bofur’s in half an hour. We’ll see you there.” He hung up and looked up at Wednesday.   
“Legolas has offered to buy us dinner at Bofur’s,” he explained.   
“I best go shower then,” said Wednesday, heading for the door.   
“No, don’t,” Thranduil said, holding his arm out to stop her, “I want everyone in that bar to smell me on you.”   
“Is this to do with your rivalry with Thorin?”   
“Maybe,” Thranduil said slyly, “But mostly, I just want to be able to lean over and remember that I fucked you over this desk.”   
“I’ll just put on a nice dress then,” Wednesday replied, reflecting the sly smile that was creeping across his face. He pulled her in close and kissed her again, running a hand through her tousled hair before she pulled away.

 

Half an hour and a quick fumble in the bedroom later, they were walking towards Bofur’s pub. Legolas was leaning against the wall, a glass of stout in one hand. The way he leaned, with his legs stretched out in front of him, he was every inch Thranduil’s son. He grinned when he saw them.   
“Took you long enough to ask her,” he said as they got close. He put his drink down and stepped forward. Thranduil let go of Wednesday’s hand to embrace his son.   
“Congratulations,” Legolas’ voice was muffled slightly. He broke from the hug to embrace Wednesday as well.   
“I’m glad you said yes,” he said, “I can’t stand the man when he’s lonely and miserable.” Wednesday laughed.   
“Just don’t call me ‘mom’ please,” she said.   
“I promise,” Legolas replied, placing his hand on his heart. He picked his drink back up.   
“Shall we head in?” he said before leading the way in.

There was something off about him, Wednesday noted as they followed, he was walking quicker than normal. She almost pulled on Thranduil’s arm but glanced up. She could see on Thranduil’s face that he too had noticed something was off about his son. Legolas pushed the door open and stepped inside the pub, holding the door for them. They stepped in, and it became clear what was up.

 

“SURPRISE!” the cheer came when they stepped in, making Wednesday jump and take a step back into Thranduil. Above the bar was a large banner that read ‘Congratulations Thranduil & Wednesday’. Balloons and streamers decorated the pub and a large crowd had gathered in front of the bar. Wednesday scanned over them. There was Thorin and his nephews, Tauriel with baby Holly in her arms, Balin, Dwalin, Bard and his children and….Wednesday almost squealed with delight when she set eyes on Ruby and Gloria. The pair broke from the crowd and rushed forward to hug her.   
“Ring, let’s see it,” Ruby demanded as soon as they parted. Wednesday lifted up her hand.   
“Oh now that’s a nice one,” Ruby said, looking closely, “Bit old though.”   
“It was my grandmothers,” Wednesday said, glancing over enough to see Thranduil make a throttling gesture at a laughing Legolas and Tauriel.   
“I thought you pawned that,” Gloria said.   
“I did,” Wednesday replied, “And I didn’t raise the money in enough time but somehow, he found it and got it back.”   
“So I’m guessing you won’t be coming back to work for Louis then?” Ruby asked.    
“What do you mean?”   
“We got a call last week, he’s got a new club opening,” Gloria said, “Apparently he’s trying to get all the Firehouse girls back. But if you’re marrying moneybags over there…”    
“We hadn’t talked about that yet,” Wednesday said, “But if I had to go back to working the clubs, you can tell Louis, he’s the only one I’d work for. How did you two get here anyway?”   
“Junior,” said Ruby, pointing a finger at Legolas, “Called us a couple of weeks ago, said to be on stand-by because his Dad was going to propose, he just didn’t know when. Turned up on my brother’s doorstep this afternoon and told me to get my butt in the car. He’s been planning this party for weeks.”   
“I think I need to go talk to my future stepson,” Wednesday said, turning on her heel and heading over to Thranduil and the others. Thorin had joined them and was in the middle of a firm handshake with Thranduil though it did look like they were trying to dislocate each others fingers.   
“Apparently we have your son to thank for this,” she said, touching Thranduil’s arm. He and Thorin let go.   
“Yes, and Tauriel too,” Thranduil replied, “Turns out, she’s been keeping her distance so as not to arouse suspicion. She and Legolas have been organising this for almost a month, ever since I told Legolas I was thinking about proposing to you whilst we were here.”   
“Oh that’s clever,” Wednesday said, turning to look at the pair, “Oh that’s very clever.” Tauriel and Legolas stood there grinning.   
“I really wanted to come talk to you more,” Tauriel said, “Legolas has spoken nothing but praises about you for months but we agreed, it would be easier to do this if I wasn’t in your social circle. But now…” She stepped forward and handed Holly over.   
“Thranduil is  the closest thing I have to a Dad,” she said, “And I can’t wait for you to be part of our family.” Wednesday looked down at the baby in her arms before looking up at Tauriel and Legolas.   
“Oh crap, I’m going to be a grandmother at thirty,” she said. Thranduil just threw his head back and laughed alongside Thorin.

 

*

 

Legolas and Tauriel had put a lot of time and effort into organising the surprise party, Wednesday realised later. She was sat in a booth with Ruby and Gloria, sipping the champagne that Bofur had handed out and kept topped up. He’d imbibed a lot himself so was swaying as he walked, singing in Irish Gaelic. His brother, Bombur, had been setting out an impressive buffet of food, including a cake, somehow laying it out without tripping over one of his four children that seemed to follow him everywhere. Most of Lake Dale’s permanent residents had arrived to celebrate. Most of them knew Thranduil in one way or another so he was kept busy by catching up with people he knew from growing up or old friends of his father. A small pile of gifts was starting to appear on the seat next to Wednesday, some from people she had never met before but had seen around. Bofur had set up a karaoke machine and Sigrid and Tilda were currently singing ‘Let It Go’.    
  


“So, you’re the one that broke Elfking out of his funk then?” a female voice drew her attention. Wednesday glanced up to find a woman with dark hair stood in front of her. She looked familiar but Wednesday couldn’t place her. She was elegantly dress in a dark blue blouse and a black herringbone skirt.   
“Yes,” Wednesday replied, putting her glass down, “I’m Wednesday McQueen.”   
“Dís Durinson,” the woman replied. It suddenly slotted into place why the woman was familiar.   
“Are you Thorin’s sister by any chance?” Wednesday asked. Dís nodded.   
“Yes, I am, and Fili and Kili’s mother,” she replied, “Allow me to offer my congratulations. Women have tried over the years to draw Thranduil back into the world of the living, but no one has quite succeeded like you.” Wednesday began to feel uncomfortable. Something in Dís’ tone implied she was trying to tell her something, like Thranduil had not been completely honest with her.   
“It was nice to meet you, Wednesday,” Dís said before turning and heading to Thranduil. Wednesday watched her go as Bard’s daughters finished their song.   
“I don’t like her,” Ruby said suddenly.   
“Huh?” Wednesday asked, not taking her eyes off the woman.   
“Something’s off about her,” Ruby continued as the three watched Dís reached Thranduil, placing her hand on his shoulder. Thranduil turned his head, saw her and smiled. His hand reached up, covered hers and slid it off. There was something a little too familiar about the way he touched her. Wednesday felt a bubble of jealousy in her stomach. She wasn’t one prone to jealousy so the feeling was a strange one.   
“I think you and Thranduil need to have a chat,” Gloria said, as Tauriel got up on stage and the opening chords of ‘Call Me Maybe’ started.   
“It’s probably nothing,” Wednesday said, turning away, “They all grew up here together, they probably know each other really well.” Even though it was her saying the words, they sounded a little hollow in her ears.

 

*

 

The touch on his shoulder almost made Thranduil jump. For a moment, he thought it was Wednesday but the moment his fingers touched the skin, he knew who it was.

“Dís,” he said, unable to believe his eyes.

“Hello Thranduil,” she said, looking him up and down, “It’s been a long time.”

“Yeah,” he replied, suddenly stumped for words.

“Can I talk to you for a moment?” She asked. Thranduil nodded and followed her over to a booth far from everyone else. He recognised it instantly. The patched leather which was fraying badly in one corner, the scratches along the edges of the table. Had it really been fifteen years? It was hazy, he’d had half a bottle of whiskey in him at the time, but some things he could remember. A smile, a kiss, a sense of not being so lonely for a brief moment, and the feel of a soft warm body entangled with his.

 

Dís slid into the booth and he sat down next to her.   
“What’s that look for?” she asked as he set his drink on the table.   
“Nothing,” he said, “I just can’t help remembering the last time we were here.”   
“That was a very different situation,” she said, “We were both drunk, you had just buried your wife and my absolute prick of a husband was drawing out our divorce even longer.”   
“I remember,” Thranduil said, spotting a scratch mark on the edge of the table and tracing his fingers over it, “What was it he was using at the time? He wanted custody, didn’t he?”   
“Yep, he didn’t even know if Kili was a boy or a girl, he just didn’t want me to move on,” Dís replied, “I think it’s safe to say we showed that I can and have.” Thranduil grinned at the memory.   
“So what is it you wanted to talk about?” he asked, lifting his drink, “You going to tell me you’ve got a fourteen year old lurking outside?” He took a sip of his drink.   
“Actually he’s fifteen,” Dís said. Thranduil choked on his drink. Dís laughed.   
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” she said, “Geez, Thranduil, you think Thorin would have let you get away with that?”   
“Don’t do that to me,” Thranduil said, leaning his head back as he tried to cough up the liquid in his lungs.   
“It was a one time thing,” Dís said, “Something to remember when we see this booth, but never mentioned. Let’s get one thing clear. You’re engaged. You don’t need to worry about me threatening that, and I don’t need to worry about you turning up at my door the day of your wedding, claiming you’ve made a mistake. It was just sex, no feelings.”   
“Agreed,” Thranduil said, “So what did you want to talk about?”

  
“The Great C-Bomb,” Dís answered as she caught a glimpse of Tilda and a few of Bombur’s children running past.   
“Your ex-husband?”   
“That’s the problem, he’s still not the ex,” she replied.   
“He’s still dragging it out? He’s been gone since before your youngest was born,” Thranduil said in shock. He may not have been close enough with the Durinsons to know her sons names offhand but his friendship with Bard had kept him sort of in the loop with the rest of Lake Dale.   
“Yeah, he’s got someone feeding him information,” she said, “Everytime I go to court to get rid of his ass, he sends his lawyer to challenge it. First it was custody, then visitation, then alimony, then division of assets. It’s always legal and above board but he drags it out every time.”   
“So how does this concern me?”   
“He’s got wind of Holly.”

Thranduil groaned and leaned his head back again.   
“He is legally her grandfather, even if he has never set eyes on her father,” Dís continued, “So now he wants to arrange mediation for visitation rights to her. He’s using some obscure legal loophole.”   
“I’m guessing Kili will never agree to that as he’s never met the man,” Thranduil said.   
“Exactly,” she replied, “So I wanted to give you the heads up. Tauriel and Kili may need help with a lawyer. I’ll help as much as I can but….you’re going into business with Thorin, I’m sure he’s explained how our finances work.”   
“He gave me a brief overview, yeah,” Thranduil replied, “Thank you, for telling me. I’ll talk with Tauriel tomorrow.”   
  


“You may want to talk to your fiance too,” she said, looking over his shoulder. Thranduil looked behind. Wednesday was watching them, the expression on her face was one he’d never seen before.   
“I know girls like her, she doesn’t have a jealous bone in her body,” Dís said, “But she’s suspicious and feeling it in the pit of her stomach. Tell her what happened between us before she figures it out herself and jumps to the wrong conclusion.”   
“I will,” he replied, “It’s good to see you again Dís.”   
“You too. Congratulations on the engagement,” she said, “Oh god, not again.” She was looking at the karaoke stage.   
“What?”   
“Eye of the Tiger,” she said, “Every single time they’re near a karaoke machine, it’s always Eye of the fucking Tiger.” Thranduil laughed as he watched her two sons do Rocky Balboa impressions during the opening chords. He slid out the booth, picked up his drink and headed over to Wednesday.

 

He sat down next to her, leaning in to kiss her neck just by her ear.   
“She seems nice,” Wednesdays tone was a little clipped.   
“Who, Dís?” Thranduil tried to sound nonchalant, “We go way back. She was in my class in high school. We’ve bumped into each other once or twice since then.” He wasn’t lying, but this wasn’t the time or the place to tell Wednesday the whole story.   
“What did she want to talk about?”   
“Kili’s father,” he said, “He’s an asshole who has managed to keep divorce proceedings drawn out for over twenty years, and is now looking to use Holly to drag it out even longer.”   
“Why would he do that?”   
“He’s an asshole,” Thranduil suggested, “That and if I remember correctly from high school, he always had to be in control. Only problem is, Thorin also likes to be in control, of everything, including, as you’ve observed, his family. There was a lot of clashing, and Dís, supposedly, bore the brunt of it. After a few years, the guy snapped and left. She was, I think, seven months pregnant at the time. He’s never met Kili, only found out he was a boy through legal proceedings. At least that’s what Bard’s told me.” Wednesday didn’t reply, her eyes fixed on Dís as she hurried past with Thorin. Her hands wrapped around his arm and she slid in as close of she could.   
“Hey,” he said, putting his hand over hers, “I can the cogs turning in your head. You have nothing to worry about there, ok? I’ll tell you everything later, I promise.” She nodded, even as she looked over at the door to the pub.   
“Who’s that?” she asked. Thranduil looked over his shoulder, spotting two men in bike leathers who had just come in.

“Oh my god, more Durinsons,” he muttered.


	19. The Morning After The Night Before

It was the sun creeping over the mountains that woke Wednesday the next morning. The remainder of the night was a blur but a few images stood out. Ruby practically drooling over Thorin’s brother Frerin, Thorin, Bard and Thranduil trying to stand upright and drunkenly sing John Denver’s ‘Take Me Home, Country Roads’ on the karaoke, unwrapping Ruby and Gloria’s engagement gift to find it was an at home stripper pole, Bard attempting to set up said pole in the middle of Bofur’s and finally Thranduil bringing up the entire content of his stomach all over the floor. They’d drunkenly stumbled home just a few hours before, Wednesday struggling to heave Thranduil’s drunken backside up the stairs as he decided to pass out halfway up and Legolas had already fallen asleep on one of the outside tables at Bofur’s, refusing to be roused. She’d finally managed to get him in to bed, and had left an old mop bucket by the bed in case he decided to vomit again before going to sleep herself.

 

He was very quiet, she couldn’t hear him breathing. She rolled over and put one hand on his back. He was still breathing so she hauled herself out of bed, feeling more than a little dehydrated. There were going to be a few sore heads around Lake Dale this morning, she was sure. She stumbled out the room and went down to the kitchen, just wearing Thranduil’s shirt from the night before in case Legolas had somehow made his way home. She retrieved two glasses of water and headed back up. Putting the glasses on Thranduil’s bedside table and taking a box of aspirin from the drawer, she shook his shoulder until his eyes opened.  
“Drink,” she said, her voice a little hoarse, “Take two aspirin or you’re gonna suffer.” He grunted in response and she suspected he already was.She took two herself and downed the whole glass of water before heading into the ensuite bathroom. The faint odour of vomit lingered. Evidently Thranduil had managed to make it to the toilet whilst she had been asleep.

 

When she returned to the bedroom, she found Thranduil sat upright, rubbing his head.   
“That fucking whiskey again,” he moaned, “Every time I drink it, I do something stupid.” She slid into bed next to him.   
“You weren’t drinking it before you asked me to marry you, were you?” she joked.   
“No, not touched it in about fifteen years,” he said, smiling but clearly in too much pain to laugh. He winced and looked at her.   
“I need to tell you something,” he said, “About Dís.” Wednesday winced herself. She remembered the familiarity the other woman held with Thranduil, the way she had touched his shoulder and the two of them had slunk off to a quiet table in the corner for a while.   
“It...it was the last time I drank that much,” he said, “I’d just buried Laurina, and I was attempting to drink myself into oblivion after her wake. Dís was just at the start of this long and shitty divorce that she’s still fighting for. We shared a bottle of whiskey and one thing led to another. It was a one time deal but I could tell you knew something was up last night.”   
“Just one time?” Wednesday asked quietly, watching his face and thankful he’d spared most of the details.   
“I swear, on Legolas, Tauriel and Holly’s lives, it was one time,” he said, “Neither of us had any interest in pursuing it further, we just wanted a little physical company that night.”   
“You slept with Thorin’s sister?”   
“Yeah.”   
“Does he know?”   
“I still have my genitals so I doubt it.” 

 

Wednesday let out a laugh, relief washing through her.   
“Thank goodness,” she said, “I was worried you were going to drop a love-child revelation on me.”   
“She actually made that joke to me last night,” Thranduil laughed, “I nearly choked. You’re okay with this?”   
“We all have pasts, thank you for being honest,” she replied, “We should probably go back to sleep for a while longer, let the aspirin kick in.”   
“Good idea,” he said, lowering himself back down on to the bed. Wednesday lay down  and snuggled up to him; he wrapped an arm around her waist.   
“Thranduil?” Wednesday said as her eyes drifted shut.   
“Yes?”   
“Do you remember who Ruby left with last night?”   
“Shit.”

 

*

 

It was past noon when the sound of the front door slamming had them emerge from the comfort of bed. Both of them pulled on the first comfy clothes they could find. Wednesday was surprised to see that Thranduil actually owned a pair of shorts as they plodded downstairs to find Legolas leaning over the kitchen sink and drinking straight from the faucet.   
“Nice to see even the young ones are suffering,” Thranduil said as the bleary-eyed young man turned off the tap and stood up straight.   
“I’m sure that wasn’t whiskey last night,” Legolas said quietly.   
“Just because it says Glenfiddich on the bottle, doesn’t mean it is,” Thranduil replied, “Just be glad you’ve not gone blind. Where did you wake up?”   
“Actually on a bed,” Legolas answered.   
“Ohh, who’d you go home with?” Wednesday asked, opening the fridge and taking out some orange juice.   
“Kili,” Legolas chuckled, “Apparently he and Tauriel took me back to Balin’s and just dumped me on their bed. He then passed out next to me and Tauriel went to sleep on the chair in Holly’s nursery.”   
“I bet Balin loved that,” Thranduil observed.   
“I was remarkably well behaved compared to Dwalin, thank you,” Legolas said, “Now I’m going to bed and tonight I’m going to head back in to the city, take Gloria and Ruby home as well.”   
“You’re not staying for the rest of the vacation?” Thranduil asked.   
“Dad, you just got engaged,” Legolas replied, “Do you really want your twenty-five year old, still living at home son actually in the same building? Or would you rather I went home, went back to work and let you two bang on every surface in this house?”

“We’re not going to bang on every surface in this house,” Thranduil protested, “Your bed will remain untarnished.”   
“Oh how generous,” Legolas said sarcastically, “I’ll see you two later.” He headed off towards the stairs.   
“Aspirin are on your Dad’s bedside table,” Wednesday called after him. Legolas waved a hand in response as he headed up the stairs.

 

Thranduil turned and looked at Wednesday.   
“We’re about to have the whole house to ourselves,” he mused.   
“You wanna do it in the kitchen or the living room first?” she asked.   
“Actually I was thinking….” he was cut off by the sound of Legolas hurrying back down the stairs.   
“Do you two remember who Thorin left with last night?” Legolas asked.   
“I know, right,” Wednesday said, grinning. Legolas grinned back.   
“I would love to have been there for them waking up this morning!”

 

*

 

After a satisfying and greasy breakfast, they left to head down to Bofur’s, to apologise once again for Thranduil’s accident the night before and to gather the engagement gifts they had left. Thranduil slung an arm around her shoulders. He seemed relaxed, finally, and enjoying himself.    
“I’m going to have to do some work tomorrow,” he said, “Thorin said he should have those numbers for me for this new project.” Something clicked in Wednesday’s mind.   
“Oh yeah, Balin came by yesterday with something for you,” she said, “I left it on your desk.”   
“Well, it can stay there til tomorrow,” he replied, “We’re starting a new chapter in our life together.” He stopped and turned her to face him.   
“I know that my work is going to mean that I don’t always get to spend all my time with you,” he said softly, “But I promise, if I say my day is for you, from now on, it is for you.” He leaned in and kissed her.   
“How did I find someone like you?” Wednesday whispered as he leaned back.   
“If I recall correctly, I was lonely and you are an amazing dancer,” Thranduil answered as they started walking again.   
“Good thing Ruby and Gloria got us that pole,” she said, “I could do you a repeat performance.”   
“I’ll borrow Bard’s tools,” he grinned.

 

They found Ruby sat outside Bofur’s nursing a hot cup of coffee, her hair bedraggled and no makeup, looking a little worse for wear. She waved when she saw them approaching.”   
“Hey you two,” she said, “You manage to get home okay?”   
“Just about,” Wednesday said, “He decided to pass out halfway up the stairs though.”   
“Ah no! No engagement nookie?” Ruby cried.   
“Oh, we had that before we got here yesterday,” Wednesday found herself slipping back into the girly dressing room banter, “Twice.” Ruby shrugged.   
“I can honestly say that my night was better,” she said, grinning.   
“Oh yes, Thorin, how was it?” Wednesday asked. Ruby swallowed her coffee quicky.   
“Thorin? Honey, I followed him out to check he was okay, I went back home with Bard,” Ruby said.   
“Wait, Bard?” Wednesday said, taking a seat opposite Ruby, “Really?”   
“Mmmhmmm,” Ruby said, “He took me home and we did it on the couch. Three times.” Thranduil rolled his eyes and smirked.   
“What about his kids?” Wednesday asked, “You know he has three in the house right?”   
“I think trying to be quiet so as not to wake them made it better,” Ruby smirked, “I’m good for another couple months now anyway.”   
“So if you went home with Bard, where did Gloria end up?” Wednesday queried. Ruby shrugged again before turning to Thranduil.   
“Junior taking us home tonight?” she asked.   
“That’s what he told us,” he replied, “I’m going to head in and apologise to Bofur. Join me when you’re ready.” 

 

He headed in.   
“So got any plans laid out for the wedding yet?” Ruby asked, before taking a sip of her coffee.   
“I’ve been engaged less than twenty four hours,” Wednesday replied, “No plans yet. So, Louis is opening a new club?”   
“Oh yeah, right in the middle of the nightlife district, classy venue, entrance fee,” Ruby said, “He called me earlier actually. He said if you want to come back, he’ll pay you a thousand bucks a night plus tips.”   
“What?”   
“Did he never tell you? Ever since that first night you danced in front of Sir, you became the highest pulling dancer,” Ruby said, “You were on fire, girl. Men were going nuts over you. You had this new found confidence. Didn’t you ever notice?”   
“I guess I was thinking about Thranduil the whole time,” Wednesday said, smiling.   
“Yeah, well, Louis is only offering me seven-fifty a night plus tips for a four night week,” Ruby said, “Gloria’s getting the same.”   
“I suppose I might take him up on that if the wedding cost gets high,” Wednesday mused.   
“I doubt you’d need it,” Ruby said before nodding towards the door, “How big is his bank account?”   
“You know what? I don’t even know,” Wednesday said, “I wonder where Gloria ended up last night.”   
“Well, we can ask her ourselves,” said Ruby, nodding over Wednesday’s shoulder. 

 

Wednesday looked back and saw Gloria walking towards them quickly. She barely acknowledged them before sitting down next to Ruby.   
“So?” Ruby asked. Gloria looked like she was about to speak but then looked down at the table, her cheeks flushing pink. Out the corner of her eye, Wednesday saw Thorin walk past and in to Bofur’s.   
“You didn’t?!” she hissed. Gloria nodded, biting her lip.   
“You slept with Thorin?!” Again, Gloria nodded.   
“Wow,” Wednesday said, “Did not see that coming.” Gloria gave a small smile.   
“Huh?” said Ruby, “So, you just got engaged to a moneybags, you just gave one undoubtedly the night of his life, and I went home with the one without a pot to piss in and three kids. Unbelievable.” She stood up from the table and headed in.   
“So, Thorin, huh?” Wednesday said, prompting a grin from Gloria.   
“Yeah, we got chatting last night after he came out for some air, and it just sort of happened,” she said, “It was….perfect. This whole place is amazing. If I were to ever leave the city, it’d be for somewhere like this.” She looked wistfully over Wednesday’s shoulder at the lake.   
“Yeah, I had that same feeling too,” Wednesday mused, “The first day I was here.””   
“You’ve got something amazing with Thranduil,” Goria said quietly as the breeze blew her hair gently, “Don’t ever let it go.”

 

*

 

Later that night, after Legolas had left with Ruby and Gloria, Thranduil followed through and set up the stripper pole in their bedroom. As he worked, Wednesday alternated between reading him the instructions and filling him in with the gossip.   
“Wait, Thorin took Gloria home?”   
“Yes. Ok, you just need to tighten it now and it should be able to take my weight.”   
“Ok. I’m actually surprised he did that.”   
“No, the other way. Why is it surprising?”   
“Oh right. No, I just always thought he was gay.”   
“Who? Thorin?”   
“That should do it. Yeah, he never seemed interested in girls when we were younger, he’s been completely focussed on his career. He never brought anyone to society gatherings.”   
“So, you assumed he was gay?”   
“Kind of. But really far in the closet,” Thranduil said, “Like I said, very conservative guy so no one ever mentioned it.”   
“Well, according to Gloria, he’s not gay,” Wednesday said, “Looks good.” Thranduil grinned and stood up straight.   
“Remind me to thank them next time we see them,” he said, “So what do you say we give it a try?”   
“I was hoping you’d say that,” Wednesday replied, “Get comfy whilst I change.”

 

She turned and opened one of the drawers in the dresser. She’d brought some ‘special’ underwear along just in case the opportunity arose, and with Legolas gone and no one around for at least half a mile, this was it. She slipped into the ensuite bathroom and shut the door. She quickly shed the camisole and sweats she’d been wearing and slipped on the black lace shorts. Her bra soon hit the floor and she put on some nipple covers. Next on was the suspender belt that matched the shorts and the stockings that went with it.   
“You ready?” she called.   
“Yes,” he replied.

 

She opened the bathroom door. Thranduil was sat on the end of the bed, with full view of the pole in front of him, and that look on his face that told Wednesday that his earlier hangover was gone and she would be lucky to sit down comfortably tomorrow. She reached over to her phone that lay on top of the dresser. On her music app she had a list of songs she had always wanted to dance to; today’s choice, ‘Open Up’ by KoRn. As soon as the music started, she took hold of the pole, giving a good tug to make sure it was solid and going to hold her weight. It was good, and it felt good to have the cold metal in her hand as he watched her. 

 

She started by doing a slow little walk around the pole, exaggerating the natural wiggle of her hips. Then she held on with both hands and dipping down, spreading her knees to give Thranduil a good view of everything. As she stood upright, she pressed herself against the pole and grinding against it a little before turning around and bending over, her ass still pressed against the metal as she cupped her breasts. She could see his pupils dilating as he watched, his hands starting to clench. She stood up straight and stepped behind the pole. She took a deep breath just as the beat picked up again in the song. She hauled herself up, swinging her legs around the pole until she hooked her knees around it. The momentum kept her swinging so she let go with one hand, swirling her whole body around and down the pole. She gracefully returned to her feet and returned to grinding against the pole, biting her lip and smiling when she saw the large bulge that was swelling in Thranduil’s shorts. She ran her hands up and down the pole before turning to face away from him, pressing her back against the pole. She dipped down, spreading her knees again, making sure to run her hands up and down her legs and neck.

 

She turned back and heaved herself up the pole, twisting herself so she was to one side. She tucked her legs up and wrapped them tightly around the pole before letting go with her hands and leaning back. As her head lowered, her eyes closed and she reached behind herself and gripped the pole so she was hanging upside down. When she opened her eyes again, Thranduil had stood up. His pupils were so wide, his eyes looked almost black. His hand cupped the back of her head, his fingers weaving themselves into her hair. He bent down and kissed her, immediately swiping his tongue against her mouth, demanding entrance. She opened her lips to him and was rewarded with one of the deepest kisses he had ever given her. He released her head and his arms slipped under hers, lifting her down from the pole.

 

He pulled her against him once she was stood upright and his erection jabbed her in the stomach hard. She grunted as his hands slid down over her backside, gripping the curve of her cheeks and pressing his hips harder against hers. He walked backwards to the bed before turning and heaving her on to it. He dropped to his knees on the floor and Wednesday yelped as he began to lick her through the lacy shorts. His hands ran up and down her legs as he pressed his mouth onto her before sliding up her body to cup her breast. Wednesday drew her legs up, gently closing her thighs to Thranduil’s ears. He grunted, pulling back.   
“Are you attached to these in anyway?” he asked, running his fingers over the lace shorts.   
“No,” Wednesday breathed, knowing what was coming. She felt him pull hard in the fabric until it tore open and a cool rush of air hit her heat. It was soon covered by Thranduil’s mouth again as he licked her clit slowly, tortuously. Wednesday yelped again, feeling heat course through her veins, pooling between her legs. He pulled back and she lifted her head to watch him strip off his clothes, his cock leaking slightly as he stood, running his hands along her ankles. He hoisted her legs over his arms, pulling her to the very edge of the bed, rubbing his cock against her until he slid inside.   
“Fuck,” Wednesday whimpered as he pushed in slowly. Her hands scrambled to find purchase on his arms as he took hold of her waist.   
“You feel so good,” he groaned, “All hot and wet, just for me.” He pulled back and little before thrusting into her again, pulling her to meet him. He hit hard and deep inside her, making her lose her breath for a second before doing it again. He picked up the pace a little after that, making Wednesday cry out as her body shook a little in ecstasy. She cried out, spurring him on to pound into her with renewed force. She could feel herself spiralling higher and higher until suddenly he pulled out of her. 

 

He pulled her to her feet and moved her to the doors that led out onto the balcony that overlooked the lake. Wednesday braced herself against the glass as he pushed into her again, his fingertips digging into her hips as he pounded into her from behind. One hand left her hips and found her swollen little clit. He began to gently rub against it with his fingers, making her yelp and tighten around his length.   
“Fuck, Wednesday,” he breathed, “I’m not going to last much longer, your little cunt is holding me so tight.” He stumbled forward a little, pressing Wednesday’s chest into the cool glass. The conflicting sensation of cold glass on her breasts and the hot length of his cock inside her sent Wednesday over the edge. She came with a scream, grinding back against him to draw it out longer. Thranduil’s pants grew shallower as her orgasm continued until he finally groaned, slamming his hips into her one last time as he twitched almost violently inside her. 

 

He grunted and cursed as they fought to reclaim their breath, his cock slowly softening inside her. He stepped backwards, sliding out of her. He turned her around and pulled her into his arms; his body warming her chest again.   
“Oh, I’m definitely thanking Ruby and Gloria when I see them again,” she panted.   
“Like I said earlier, you are an amazing dancer.”


	20. His Guiding Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be warned, this chapter does include a discussion regarding mental health and depression. Whilst not in-depth, it is based on my own experience.

After the insanity of the engagement party and the horrific hangover that followed, Wednesday was glad for the quiet day whilst Thranduil worked. She curled up on the sofa, all the windows open to let in some air, and continued reading her book. She smiled as the graphic description of animalistic sex formed an image in her mind. Not of the characters in the book, but herself and Thranduil. She shook her head and skipped ahead to post-orgasm otherwise she would be barging into his office and there would be a repeat performance of the other day. It was a wonderful relaxing day, just the sound of the breeze, the birds floating through. At one point she even heard Gandalf walk past humming a tune to himself. She read her book, drank when she was thirsty and ate when she was hungry. 

 

It was only when they light began to fade that she realised Thranduil hadn’t emerged from his office for almost twelve hours. She got up and went to the office door. She could hear the sound of pen on paper. She knocked on the door.   
“Thranduil, it’s almost eight thirty,” she called, “Do you want dinner?” She pushed the door open and found Thranduil sat at his desk, looking out the window in surprise.   
“You ok?” she asked, looking down at the desk. Various papers were scattered across the desk  covered in dates, names, numbers. Thranduil dropped his pen and groaned. He rubbed his face with his hands.   
“I’m sorry, I didn’t even realise how late it was,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “This….” He gestured at the papers in front of him.   
“It looks crazy,” Wednesday said, walking over to him, “What is all of it?” Thranduil took hold of her hips and pulled her down to sit in his lap.   
“Project Orcrist,” Thranduil said, “In simple terms, it’s a plan to save Lake Dale. Slowly, using various dummy corporations and pulling in business favours, we buy back everything Smaug took. We invest in the businesses still here to grow, we encourage new businesses. Even help people buy back their homes.”   
“Why do those numbers look so scary?” Wednesday asked, feeling the tension in Thranduil’s body.   
“Because it will take every last cent we have,” Thranduil said, “That’s how much Smaug took. Thorin has a reasonable sized fortune put to one side and he’s putting it all in this too, along with a few cousins of his. The long and short of it is this, if project Orcrist fails, we’re broke and we lose everything.” Wednesday looked down at the pages again. She could see he had been trying to work out a budget for them.   
“There’s nothing left for a wedding,” Thranduil said, “I have to choose between saving my home town or giving you the wedding you deserve.”   
“We can wait,” Wednesday replied, “There’s no rush. Besides, I can help.” Thranduil looked up at her.   
“Louis is apparently offering me a thousand bucks a night plus tips at his new club,” she said, “I know it’s nothing compared to all this.” She gestured at the paperwork.

“But it’ll be enough to keep our heads above water,” she continued, “Maybe even for a small wedding at City Hall.”   
“With a party at Bofur’s?” Thranduil asked. Wednesday nodded.   
“With a party at Bofur’s,” she said, “Thranduil, you called this money ours. You shouldn’t need to shoulder all the burden alone.”   
“You’re right,” he said, “Legolas is getting a salary now, he can start paying rent.”   
“Exactly,” Wednesday said, lifting his chin and kissing him, “Now, dinner.”   
“Dinner.”

 

*

 

As they settled in to bed that night, it was Wednesday's mind that was running over the numbers. Thranduil's fortune was larger than she had realised. For him to sacrifice it all, for the chance to save Lake Dale, was incredible. But he had been right. They would barely be keeping their heads above water even if she went back to working for Louis. He didn't take a salary from his company, his income came from his shares and even then most of the next quarters dividends would be ploughed straight back into Orcrist, as would the rest for the foreseeable future, until Orcrist was able to turn a profit.

“Hey,” his sleep-laced voice broke through her thoughts, “Why are you still awake?” She glanced at the clock. 2.30am.   
“Just thinking,” she replied.   
“I know that look,” he rasped, “But I haven’t seen it in a while. You’re thinking about money.”   
“Do I really have a worrying-about-money face?” she asked.   
“Yes,” Thranduil said, sitting up next to her, “You frown, your eyes go back and forth as you work out calculations in your head. I used to see it before you moved in with me, when you were working out if you could pay your rent and your bills that week or if you’d be living off bar nuts.” Wednesday sighed and didn’t resist when he pulled her into his arms. He traced his fingers over her cheek before combing them through her hair and kissing her. It was slow and tender, and a welcome distraction. 

 

She moaned into the kiss as he traced his tongue over her lips. She opened up to him, feeling his tongue touch hers before retreating again. He eased her down onto her back, his body covering hers, never breaking the kiss. His hand moved from her head to her breast, running his thumb over her nipple through her night shirt. She gasped at the sensation, his kisses moving from her mouth to her neck. Her legs parted, allowing him to settle between them. She could feel him, hard and heavy, pressing at her folds. His hands slid down her sides to the hem of the shirt, pulling it upwards and over her head. Thranduil threw it on the floor, never taking his eyes off her. He moved down her body and gave one hardened nipple a tentative lick. Wednesday moaned, her back arching slightly at the intense warm sensation that ran through her. He closed his mouth over the nub and sucked, encouraging more moans and whimpers from her. She raised her legs, trying to wrap them around him, to pull him into her. But he pushed them back down, alternating between suckling at her breasts and licking them. Small cries and curses came from her mouth as the fingers of one hand began to stroke the folds between her legs. She tilted her hips, desperate to fill the empty sensation inside her. One fingertip slid into her.   
“Fuck,” he groaned, his breath sending a chill across the dampened flesh of her breasts, “You’re so fucking wet.”

 

He pulled his hand away from her and crawled back up her body. Taking her face in his hands, he returned to the languid kisses of before, their tongues tangling together as his hips rolled against hers. His straining cock seemed desperate to slide home inside her, always nudging at her folds but never more than that. He pulled back for a moment.   
“You don’t need to worry about the money,” he whispered, “We’ll get through this. I promise.”   
“I know,” she replied as his arms wrapped around her once more. He rolled over so she was on top, his hands moving to her thighs as she straddled him. She rolled her hips, feeling his hard length between them. It was his turn to moan as she sat up right, running her hands over his chest. He managed to lay still and enjoy it for just a few more rolls of her hips before lifting her up a little and reaching between them to move himself into place. He kissed her again as she began to lower herself, slowly taking him in, inch by inch. He grunted and cursed as she sank down completely. She pushed him back so he lay flat and slowly raised herself up. His fingers sank into her thighs as she dropped back down, her feet hooking under his legs to balance herself. She began to ride him, slowly at first, enjoying the gentle friction of her clit on his pubic bone but steadily getting faster and faster. He groaned, his eyes rolling shut and his head back, the veins in his neck standing out. He was getting close and Wednesday could feel that familiar tightening sensation in her belly. She threw her head back as she felt him swell inside her, her hips rutting wildly.   
“Fuck,” she cried as his hands moved up to her waist, his fingers gently caressing her skin until the tension in her body snapped. She cried out, feeling herself undulate around him, making him throb, buried deep inside her. Wednesday struggled to recapture her breath, her legs shaking but Thranduil held her steady, even with his own chest heaving. 

 

After a moment, he rolled to the side, easing out of her and kissing her again. Even with her heart racing, Wednesday could feel herself relaxing more. He felt closer, imperfect, more tangible than before. He’d always seemed so ridiculously perfect before but now, he seemed….real. His fingers pushed her hair back.   
“I love you, more than I can ever say,” he whispered against her lips, “You made me feel alive again when all I wanted was to hide away.” Wednesday pulled herself closer to him.   
“I...I never told you this,” he said softly, looking down away from her face, “You came into my life at my lowest point. I had never been so alone, the only people I saw were the girls at the Firehouse and members of the board. I talked to no one except about work or to give a drinks order. I….”   
“Thranduil, you don’t….”   
“No, I need to say this,” he cut her off, “Please. I never thought I’d be happy again. I lost interest in everything, I even considered calling Feren off looking for Legolas and Tauriel. I felt like something was slowly crushing me. Then you stepped out on that stage and it felt like a weight was lifted off my shoulders. I felt like I could smile again, enjoy life, and I knew I wanted to enjoy it with you from the moment I found you outside in the snow.”   
“Thranduil,” she whispered, “I love you too. You scared me for a moment then, I thought you’d been thinking about…”   
“No, I wasn’t at suicide,” he reassured her, “But it was still scary to feel that way.” He leaned in and kissed her again.   
“You are my guiding light,” he said softly, “Don’t ever forget that.”

 

*

 

When Wednesday awoke that morning, the bed next to her was empty. She reached out and found the sheets cool. He had obviously gotten up some time before. He had admitted a lot the previous day. His inner conflict between saving the town he loved and treating her the way he thought she deserved, the financial difficulties that would be coming their way in the very near future, his belief in the two of them, the depression he had been struggling with when they had met. She ran her fingers over the ring on her finger. He had called her his guiding light. She smiled and sat up. Today was a new day. She needed to call Louis and enquire about this supposed job, then maybe go for a run, or at least do some yoga. She had been slacking for the last month or so since the Firehouse had burnt down. Time to make sure she was limber enough to get back on the pole.

 

As she headed downstairs, she found Thranduil in the kitchen, cooking something on the stove, his broad back and exposed shoulders to her. Propped up at the back of the counter was his phone, Thorin’s face filled the screen. Ah, a video conference.   
“So what do you think?” Thranduil asked.   
“I think a pink apron would look very fetching on you,” Thorin said, a deadpan expression on his face.   
“I meant…”   
“I know what you meant,” he said, “I’ll get Gloin to run some numbers, but it sounds like a good way to get Orcrist making a return on it’s investment faster. I had an email off your son too, he’s got some good ideas but both of you need to know one thing.”   
“What’s that?”   
“That four in the morning is far too early for calls and emails, even for me,” Thorin said, “I’ll call you when I have some news. Put a damn shirt on.” And with that, the call cut off.

 

Thranduil glanced over his shoulder and smiled at her.   
“I made breakfast,” he said cheerfully, “Eggs with spinach and bacon.”   
“Did you really call Thorin at four in the morning?” she asked, walking over to where he was plating up.   
“I forgot to check the time,” he said, “I had a dream, and then an idea. So I just called him, apparently Legolas had one too.”   
“So, Orcrist could start making a return early?”   
“Yes, if it works, but there’s the initial outlay and everything to sort out first,” Thranduil said, gesturing with the spatula in his hand, “Thorin’s got to get some numbers together and then we figure out if it’s worth doing, what gets pushed back so we can start it, blah, blah, blah, boring business stuff. Where’s the salsa?”   
“In the fridge,” Wednesday said, “Hey, wait.” She grabbed his hand.   
“What you said to me last night,” she said as he stopped and looked at her, “I want you to promise me one thing.”   
“Anything,” he replied.   
“You start feeling like that again, you tell me,” she said, “You called me your guiding light. Let me guide you to where you need to go.” Thranduil stepped towards her, his hands coming up to cradle her face.   
“I promise.”


	21. Zak

“Thranduil, I can’t see!” Wednesday giggled as she stumbled along. Thranduil’s long fingers were closed over her eyes and he was guiding her along the road through the main part of town.  
“That’s the point,” he whispered in her ear, “Now, right turn here.” He turned her, and she could hear a faint humming. She knew where she was. They were passing Bofur’s pub; he was out collecting glasses from the tables.   
“Where are we going?” she asked.   
“It’s a surprise,” he replied, “Keep going.” He lead her down the street, past the pub and beyond.   
“Alright, now stop,” he said and Wednesday stumbled to a stop.   
“Are you ready?” he asked.   
“Ready for what?” she asked as he removed his hands. She blinked a couple of times, readjusting to the light. In front of her was a brick-built building, probably about forty years old. It didn’t look like it had been used much for some time but the letters above the door read ‘Lake Dale Community Centre’.   
“Okay,” she said, “What am I looking at?” Thranduil stepped in close to her.   
“You are looking at the future site of the Wednesday McQueen School of Dance,” he said softly, “And the first part of Project Orcrist.” Her heart skipped a beat.   
“A dance school?” she said, almost breathless.   
“Your dance school,” he said, “The idea came to me the other day. You said you always wanted to be a dance teacher. I had Thorin put the feelers out, there’s a lot of demand for more artistic programmes both in Lake Dale and all the other towns in a thirty mile radius. The only thing at the moment is a Monday night ballroom class at the high school in the next town, and no one under the age of sixty goes.”   
“You’re buying me a dance school?”   
“Not exactly, the funds are coming from Orcrist,” he said, “Which will need to be paid back once it’s up and running. Bard has already put Sigrid and Tilda’s names down for ballet.” Wednesday turned to look at him. He was stood up straight, looking down at her, waiting for a reaction. He got one.

 

She squealed and jumped into his arms, making him laugh.  
“Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she cried, kissing his face everywhere she could reach. He let out a laugh.   
“I take it you told her,” came Thorin’s voice. Wednesday glanced over at him.   
“Thorin owns the building,” Thranduil said, lowering her gently, “He has agreed to lease it for now at a greatly reduced rate, and in a few years, depending on the success, he may even sell it to you.” Wednesday squealed again and ran over to Thorin, throwing her arms around him.   
“Thank you!” she said, despite the man tensing up under her sudden affection. After a moment, he relaxed and patted her awkwardly on the back.   
“You’re welcome,” he said as she pulled back, “It’s sitting on my portfolio doing nothing except the local octogenarian ladies using it for tea on the first tuesday of each month. They will happily go to Bofur’s instead, everyone knows it’s not actually tea they’re drinking.” Wednesday couldn’t help but jump up and down in excitement.   
“Can we go in?” she asked, “I want to see it.” Thorin reached into his pocket and pulled out a key.   
“Knock yourself out,” he said, handing it over, “It needs a lot of work mind. I bought it twenty years ago merely to stop Smaug from getting his hands on it.” Wednesday didn’t hear him, she was already heading to the door.

 

Once inside, she saw what Thorin meant. Aside from the kitchen area, which was immaculately kept, with six plastic chairs in a circle; the whole building needed work. There had evidently been a leak at some point and the ceiling had collapsed in the large main room, but it had floor to ceiling windows, letting in large amounts of daylight. The toilets were the original ones installed when the building had been first built forty-five years ago. The storage area had evidence of a rodent infestation. But the shell of the building was solid, the rest, easily fixed.  
“What do you think?” Thranduil asked as she looked around the main room.   
“I think it’s perfect,” she said, her voice shaking, “I can’t believe it.”   
“What’s wrong?” he asked. Wednesday blinked, tears in her eyes.   
“I mentioned it once,” she said, taking a deep, shuddering breath, “My dream, to be a dance teacher. And you remembered.”   
“I remember everything about that night,” he said, stepping towards her, “I remember that leaking pipe, the sandwiches you made, everything we talked about.” He brushed a lock of hair behind her ear.   
“It was the night I fell in love with you,” he whispered.

 

A low whistle drew their attention back to the main doors. Bard and Dwalin stood there, looking around.  
“I remember having my sixth birthday party in here,” Bard said as he looked up at the collapsed ceiling.   
“The old gal has certainly seen better days,” said Dwalin, “But it’s nothing we can’t fix. We’ll have her back up to scratch in a jiffy.”   
“Thorin has asked you for a quote?” Thranduil asked.   
“Aye, we should have it in a day or two,” said Dwalin, pulling a notepad and pencil from his pocket, “A dance school, eh? Bard will have to dig out his tap shoes.” He cackled as Bard flipped him off from the other side of the room.   
“There is one condition however,” Thranduil said, returning his attention to Wednesday, “We need you to convince the rest of the investors. We’re investing in you, so it’s got to be you to present the idea.”   
“What does that involve?” Wednesday asked, her stomach twisting into knots.   
“You just need to give a small presentation to them,” he said,  “Thorin and I will help you put it together, and we’ll be in the room too. But, like I said, your name will be above the door, you need to convince them.”   
“Who are they?” she asked.   
“Me, Thorin, Legolas, Fili, Kili, Balin, Dís, Gandalf are ones you know,” he said, “There’s a couple more of Thorin’s cousins and associates, plus a few from Woodland Realm. So there will be plenty of friendly faces in there.”   
“Okay,” Wednesday said. Thranduil took her hands and lifted them up, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.   
“You’ll knock them dead,” he said softly.   
“Of course she will.”

 

Thorin stepped around a small pile of rubble as he tucked his phone into his pocket.  
“That was Kili,” he said, “He and Tauriel are at Bofur’s now. He’s got some news for us. I said we’ll be there in ten minutes.” Thranduil nodded. Thorin turned and headed out, Dwalin and Bard followed him out, talking about the bathrooms. Once alone, Thranduil slid his hands around her waist.   
“Can you picture it?” he asked, “Your dance school.” Wednesday smiled.   
“My dance school,” she said softly, playing with the collar of his shirt.   
“Your dream,” he said, leaning in to rest his forehead on hers, “I may not be able to give you a dream wedding, but this way, I can give you your dream since you were a little girl and save Lake Dale at the same time.”   
“My superhero,” Wednesday mused as he leaned in to kiss her, “I’m going to pay you back later.”   
“I hope so,” he whispered before kissing her. He pulled her body against his for a brief moment.   
“I really hope so,” he added. Wednesday pulled his head back in to kiss him again, running her tongue along his lips, encouraging him to open up. But he resisted, refusing to yield to her, so Wednesday decided to play dirty. Her hand moved from his shoulders to his crotch, cupping him through his clothes. He grunted and gasped as she tightened her hold on his length. His mouth opened and she immediately swiped her tongue against his, drawing him into the intimate kiss. She felt him rapidly harden beneath her fingers and swiftly pulled away, leaving him looking dumbstruck, his mouth hanging open and a raging semi in his pants.   
“You’re going to pay for that,” he said when he recovered the use of his voice. It was deep and husky with a sharp edge of need.   
“Oh, am I?” Wednesday teased, starting to back away towards the door. He quickly covered the distance between them with a few long strides and pulled her against him.   
“When I’m done with you,” he whispered, one hand descending over her butt and squeezing, “You’ll be lucky to be able to walk.”   
“Promises, promises,” she replied.

 

*

 

When they arrived at Bofur’s, they found Thorin, Kili and Tauriel sat in a booth, Holly asleep on the seat between Tauriel and Kili. Wednesday managed to squeeze into the booth next to Thorin whilst Thranduil grabbed an empty chair from a nearby table.  
“Thanks for meeting us,” said Kili.   
“Not a problem,” Thranduil replied, “What is this news you have for us?” Kili took a deep breath, looking at the table. Tauriel reached across and put one of her hands over his clenched pair, her thumb stroking back and forth in a soothing gesture. Kili relaxed his hands and took hold of hers.   
“First of all, we’ve decided to get married,” he said, “With your blessing of course, Mr Elfking.” Thranduil nodded, watching the young man carefully.  
“It makes sense,” Kili continued, “That way, we all share a common name and if anything should happen to me, it makes it easier to ensure that Tauriel and Holly are both cared for, without the complication of proving our relationship. And then there’s this.” He reached into his coat pocket and tossed a letter onto the table towards Thranduil.

 

Thranduil picked up the letter and opened it, leaning his elbows on the table as he read. Moments passed in silence. Tauriel’s fingers had turned white, she was holding Kili’s hand so tight. Thranduil’s face was growing an ever deepening frown, quickly matching Thorin’s.  
“Is this a joke?” Thranduil finally spoke as he tossed the letter down on the table, “Because if it is, it isn’t funny. Have you read this, Thorin?”   
“Zak certainly has an active imagination,” Thorin observed, “And a keen interest in not paying what he owes.”   
“What’s going on?” Wednesday asked.   
“My father,” Kili said, “He’s spinning some sick lies about Tauriel and Thranduil.”   
“Zak, Kili’s father, is alleging that Holly in my child, not Kili’s,” Thranduil growled, “That she was conceived during an abusive sexual relationship, starting when Tauriel was seventeen.”   
“The age I first met Kili,” Tauriel murmured.   
“He then states that when Tauriel fell pregnant, you and I agreed to adopt the child, and that we then backed out,” Thranduil continued, his fists clenched, “He goes on to allege that Tauriel then convinced Kili that it was his child and states he will not pay out until Kili proves that Holly is his blood. To ensure no fraud regarding his money is carried out.”   
“So he’s not only implying that Holly isn’t Kili’s, but that you had sex with Tauriel when she was underage?” Wednesday felt horrified. Thranduil’s gaze had turned dark, his jaw clenched.   
“Exactly that,” Tauriel said, “It’s sick. And we’re scared to go through with a DNA test because if he knows about us and Holly, then he could find out which company we use and tamper with the results, make it look like Holly isn’t Kili’s child and those allegations look true.” She looked like she was about to cry and Kili slid an arm around her shoulders.   
“And so would begin a media shitstorm,” Thorin’s voice rumbled from next to Wednesday, “Imagine it, Thranduil Elfking, businessman and pillar of the local community, named a sexual deviant and pervert, dragging you, myself and everyone else associated with Orcrist down with him.”   
“So what do we do?” Kili asked, gazing up at his Uncle, desperate for answers.   
“We close ranks,” Thorin said, “Someone is feeding information to Zak, we need to plug the leak. Nothing regarding this leaves this table. We tell no one what is being discussed here, not even your mother and your brother. If it needs discussing further, we meet at Thranduil’s. There are no prying eyes there nor do the walls have ears.”   
“Agreed,” Thranduil added, “But if I ever come across Zak…”   
“You call me first,” Thorin cut him off, “I’ve been waiting twenty three years to wipe the floor with that sack of shit.”


	22. Intense

 

“Hey.”

Wednesday looked up from the cookbook laid on the counter before her. Thranduil leaned on the other end of the kitchen island, watching her.   
“What are you doing?”   
“Preparing for the horde,” she replied. That night, Thorin, Dwalin, Bard, Gandalf and a whole host of others were meeting at the house to discuss amongst other things Lake Dale and Project Orcrist.   
“I already told you, I’m cooking,” he said, straightening up.   
“I’m looking at hor d'oeuvres, canapes, something we can serve up whilst they have a drink before dinner,” she said, “There’s some spinach and mushroom tartlets in here that I think I could make.”   
“You don’t have to do that,” he told her as he walked towards her, “I’ve got the good booze out of hiding. You just need to be your charming self.”   
“Please, I want to contribute,” she said, “I need to make a good impression. Let’s face it, I didn’t bring any clothes that exactly scream future business owner.”   
“Don’t worry about your clothes, I took care of it,” Thranduil replied before kissing her neck, “Tauriel went into the next town this morning. I gave her your measurements, she said she would pick something up for you to wear.”   
“You’re incredible, you know that,” Wednesday smiled at him, “How do you always know exactly what to do?”   
“It’s a gift,” he grinned, “If you want to do the tarts, we have all the ingredients here. But you’ve already made a good impression, they’ve all met you before.”   
“But this is our first ever dinner party,” she protested, “And it’s not a social gathering, it’s business. I’m not going in to this as your girlfriend, I’m coming in as your fiance and a future business owner.”  He chuckled and smiled down at her.   
“You never cease to amaze me,” he said, “I tell you we’re about to become flat broke right after we get engaged, you offer to go back to work. I agree to host a dinner meeting, a tradition that goes back generations, whose forefathers conducted these meetings covered in grease and wood shavings and debris from their trade. And you want to add hor d’oeurves to the menu, to give a good impression. Do you ever think about yourself?”   
“I don’t normally have time,” Wednesday admitted, “I always think about how I can help you first.”   
“Like your little plan for Holly’s DNA test,” Thranduil said, “Honestly, sending it in via Ruby and Gloria was a stroke of genius.” Wednesday beamed at his praise.

 

Thranduil pulled her into him and ran his fingers through her hair.   
“I know it’s been a little stressful since Zak’s letter arrived,” he said softly, “And I know Project Orcrist has been taking up a lot of my time. You’ve been very patient with me, and I’ve been neglecting my duty to you.” He ran his hands over her shoulders and down her back.   
“What duty?” Wednesday asked.   
“My duty as your lover,” he said, “To let you know that you are cherished and loved, and to show it to you.” He leaned in and kissed her neck, just below her ear.   
“What are you doing?” she asked. He didn’t answer, he merely dragged his teeth across the fleshy part of her ear lobe, making her breath catch in her throat. Her hands grabbed hold of his shirt.   
“Thranduil…” she breathed.   
“It’s been five days,” he whispered, “I don’t think we’ve ever gone so long before.” His long fingers trailed down over her rear, giving it a gentle squeeze as he kissed her lips. Wednesday whimpered as he lifted her up, encouraging her to wrap her legs around him. He continued to press gentle kisses to her mouth as he carried her out the kitchen, towards the stairs.

 

He was right. It had been the best part of a week since the arrival of Zak’s letter. The accusations in it proving to be more than enough to quash any desire for love making. Whilst Thorin and Thranduil had doubled their efforts on moving Project Orcrist along, Wednesday had been offering support to Tauriel who had been more upset by it all than she had let on. Whether it was a listening ear, a shoulder to cry on, or even just a babysitter for an afternoon, Wednesday had done her best to help. And she had come up with a plan to prevent Zak from tampering with the DNA test to disprove his accusations. Ruby had ordered the test and sent it straight to Bofur’s pub where Wednesday had collected it. The plan was to get Kili’s DNA tonight, then Tauriel would visit with Holly tomorrow. The test would then be passed to Bard who would send it to Gloria and then it would be returned to the company. With no direct communication between Thranduil, Kili and Tauriel and the actual company, and the test in Ruby’s name, it was highly unlikely Zak would make the connection.

 

It was the feel of the bed beneath her that brought Wednesday back to the moment, Thranduil’s lips returning to her neck, teasing the sensitive skin. His hips pressed against hers as his fingers found the buttons on her blouse. He slowly began to open them, following his hands with his mouth, adding tentative nibbles and licks as he exposed more flesh, making her skin feel heated. Once all the buttons were open, he reached up to her shoulders and pulled the blouse off them and down her arms before casting it to the floor. He turned his attention to the pants she was wearing, drawing his mouth along the flesh of her belly, placing open-mouthed kisses along the edge, swirling his tongue as he went. Wednesday shivered as he went, the muscles in her torso constricting and flexing as he went. Her hands moved to his head, finger-combing his hair as he popped open the button on her pants and began to lower the zipper. Wednesday’s breathing became shallow as his fingers slipped over the edge of her pants and began to trace the edge of her underwear. She panted his name as he began to pull her pants down, pressing kisses to the soft cotton of her panties as he went. His hands followed her pants down her thighs and calves, pushing them over her feet but his head remained at the apex of her thighs, nudging at her hidden centre. As her pants hit the floor, he licked her through her panties, making her yelp. He groaned in response and crawled back up her body, his hands reaching under her to open the clasp on her bra. He removed it just enough to expose her hardened nipples to his hungry gaze. He lowered his head and gently rolled one with his tongue. Her hips canted upwards, seeking friction to rub against as he swirled his tongue around the rosy bud before covering it with his mouth. He grunted again as he sucked on her breast, his hips pressing against her, pinning her to the bed. His thighs pressed hers apart and she cried out, trying to rub her core against the solid bulge in his pants. Thranduil’s response was to suck harder on her breast as his hands moved to her waist, holding her in place as he lavished attention on her flesh. Wednesday cried out, pleading with Thranduil to give her what she wanted, what she needed. Her fingers scraped down his arms before she reached awkwardly around him to reach the fastening of his own pants. 

 

She had just managed to unfasten the button when he pulled away and got off the bed. He reached out and pulled her from the bed so she was knelt on the floor before him, her bra falling to join the rest of her clothes.   
“Go ahead,” his voice was hoarse and raw with need. Wednesday clawed at his pants, pulling down the zip and opening them just enough to free him. She wasted no time in taking his length in her mouth as he gathered her hair in one hand.   
“I love your sweet mouth,” he muttered as she bobbed her head back and forth on his cock. She glanced up at him, making him moan and shudder.   
“I like that,” he whispered, “Good girl.” His hips flexed, pushing himself deeper into her. Wednesday began to hum, relaxing her throat, letting him take as much as he wanted. After just a few short thrusts, he pulled out of her and lifted her back on to the bed. He leaned over her and kissed her, his tongue tangling with hers as the blunt head of his cock teased her folds through her panties.   
“As much as I was enjoying that, this is about you,” he whispered before dropping to his knees at the side of the bed. He pulled her panties down her legs and casually tossed them over his shoulder. He took hold of her legs and yanked her to the edge of the bed. He pressed her legs apart, licking his lips. Wednesday moaned and lifted her arms above her head. He was going to put that wickedly talented mouth to work, and she had no problem with that.

 

It started with a gentle, languid lick from bottom to top, ending with a gentle roll of her clit, sending tremors down her spine. She made a small gasp of pleasure as his tongue retreated for a moment before returning. A few more licks and she could feel heat coursing through her veins as he changed his pattern, focusing solely on her clit, drawing slow circles around it before closing his mouth over her flesh. She cursed as he sucked on the small knot of nerves, her hands reached for his head. He resumed licking her, slurping as she felt her juices trickle out. He pulled back slightly and ran his fingers over her heated flesh. His fingertips gently probed her at first before he slid one inside of her.   
“Thranduil!” she cried out as he began to pump his hand, making her clench around the digit. He pressed kisses to her thighs as she began to squeal. Her legs began to shake as he pulled his hand away and resumed using his mouth. He delved in with his tongue, thrusting it deep inside her, his fingers finding her clit and drawing small circle around it. Wednesday began to scream, her orgasm was building quickly and with more pressure than she’d ever felt before. She knew it was going to be intense, just from the way her legs were continuing to shake, but Thranduil never let up, continuing to eat her out as if she were his last meal. She cursed and squealed and shouted his name until finally her entire body shook and she came, screaming. Her fingernails dug into his scalp as her hands pushed his face into her. Her legs shook uncontrollably and she began to sob.

 

Thranduil wrenched himself free from her grasp and quickly climbed up on the bed, laying by her side and pulling her into his arms. He held her gently, rubbing his hands over her arms and back, pressing tender kisses to her forehead as her body continued to shake. She was completely overcome, tears streaming down her face as Thranduil comforted her. Soon the last waves of her orgasm faded and she shivered, suddenly cold. Thranduil reached and pulled the blanket from the end of the bed and covered them both with it, gently shushing her as she whimpered.   
“Are you alright?” he asked after a few minutes of silence.   
“I think so,” she answered, her voice shaking.   
“I wasn’t quite expecting that reaction,” he chuckled, tightening his embrace in a bid to warm her, “But I take it that you enjoyed it?”   
“Oh god, yes,” she whimpered in reply, tightening her hold on his shirt, “I’m sorry, I don’t think I’m up to returning the favour.”   
“I don’t expect you to,” he said softly, “All I want is to lie here with you for a little bit.”   
“I feel quite tired,” Wednesday admitted.   
“Then go to sleep,” he replied, “I’ll stay here with you, I promise.”

  
  


When Wednesday woke, she saw Thranduil slipping back in through the bedroom door. In one hand, he held a bottle of water and a bag of something. Over the opposite arm were draped two clothes bags.   
“Looks like whilst we were napping, Tauriel came by with our clothes for tonight,” he said as he laid the two bags on top of the dresser. Wednesday sat up as he returned to the bed with the water and what she now saw was a bag of chocolate brownie bites. He sat down next to her and gave her the glass. She sipped it, feeling weak and shaky, almost as if she were ill.   
“That was….intense,” she said after a moment as he opened the bag.   
“I gathered,” he said, “I’ll have to do that again some time.” He offered her the bag and she took one, biting into it and feeling better straight away. He smiled down at her.   
“I love you,” he said gently after a moment, leaning in to kiss her head, “Now, eat a few more of these, get dressed and we’ll go make those tarts for later.”


	23. Banter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note this chapter contains characters smoking and drinking. I know, terrible right? But if it's not something you want to read about, feel free to not.

Wednesday opened the door, smiling at the sight of Balin standing side by side with Dwalin on the doorstep.   
“Ah, Wednesday, my dear, you look radiant as ever,” he said, “I brought a wee bit of something.” He held up a green bottle.   
“If I remember correctly, this is Thranduil’s favourite,” he said, handing it over.   
“Oh, thank you, Balin,” Wednesday said, stepping to one side to allow them in.   
“Tell me he’s got the good stuff out,” Dwalin said as he followed his brother in and wiped his boots on the door mat. He was dressed quite smartly for him. His green plaid shirt was clean and ironed, there were no holes in his jeans and his boots were relatively mud free for him.   
“He says he’s taken it out of hiding,” Wednesday replied, “If you go through to the living room, I’ll get you some drinks. Thorin and Gandalf are already here.”   
“Looks like my drinks arriving now,” Dwalin said, glancing over his shoulder. Bofur and Kili were marching up the driveway, carrying a keg between them with Fili just a few steps behind.   
“I brought the good stuff,” Bofur shouted as they heaved it into the house.   
“I’ll take that,” Dwalin said, easily taking the keg from the other two and lifting it to chest height. Kili rushed forward and set the stand for it on the kitchen island, earning a raised eyebrow from Thranduil who was doing the final prep for dinner, and Dwalin set the keg on straight. The tap was already attached.   
“That thing is not staying in my house,” Thranduil said, pointing at it with his chopping knife as Dwalin passed him to retrieve two glasses from a cupboard.   
“Oh relax would ya?” Bofue said, “By the time Dwalin and I are done with this baby, she’ll be empty and I can just roll her on home.”   
“Roll her on into the lake more like,” Bard’s hushed voice made Wednesday jump. He’d slipped in whilst she had been staring at Bofur and Dwalin.   
“Sorry I’m late,” he apologised, “Sigrid wanted me to write down Thranduil’s phone number in at least three different places before I left in case there’s an emergency.”   
“No worries,” Wednesday replied, “Can I get you a drink?”   
“I’ll have some of that stout,” Bard said, gesturing towards the keg.   
“Here you are, Bard, take that,” Bofur said handing over the drink he had just poured, “Dwalin! I need another glass!” Dwalin was still stood by the glass cupboard. He reached in, took one and promptly threw it in to Bofur’s waiting hand.   
“Stop throwing glasses in my house!” Thranduil warned, gesturing with the knife again. Dwalin and Bofur just laughed and headed into the living room.

 

Wednesday immediately busied herself with preparing drinks. A double whiskey neat for Thorin, a glass of wine for Gandalf, a bottle of beer each for Fili and Kili and a cup of tea for Balin. She was just laying out the drinks, waiting for the tea kettle when Thranduil leaned in to her ear.   
“DNA test,” he reminded her. She nodded before looking up.   
“Kili,” she called, “Could you come give me a hand, please?” Kili looked at her for a moment before nodding. He hurried over to her and they moved over to the far end of the kitchen island, out of sight of the others. She opened the drawer and extracted the swab for their DNA test.   
“Say ah,” she joked. Kili giggled and complied. After a quick glance to check they were in the clear, she swabbed the inside of his cheek.   
“There, all done,” she said, “I’ll get Holly’s tomorrow.”   
“Thank you,” Kili said quietly.   
“Take some drinks back in with you,” she reminded him. He slipped back, grabbing the bottles of beer and Thorin’s whiskey.

 

*

 

Wednesday watched as eight men dropped their napkins onto their plates, a chorus of satisfied groans ringing around the table.   
“That was amazing,” Fili said as he slouched in his chair.   
“I think I need a new notch in my belt,” Dwalin commented.   
“You are proving yourself to be a man of many talents, my friend,” Thorin said stoically, “I never knew you could cook.”   
“Until fifteen years ago, I couldn’t boil water,” Thranduil said, staring into his wine glass, “But then I suddenly found myself with two children who expected to be fed something other than take out every night.” Thorin didn’t say anything, he just took a sip from his third whiskey of the night.   
“I’ll clear the plates,” Wednesday said, standing. Bard immediately leapt to his feet and helped her carry them back into the kitchen.

 

“He wasn’t joking about the boiling water thing, you know,” he said as they scrapped what little remained on the plates into the garbage can, “He came knocking on my door about two weeks after his wife was buried, asking my wife how you cooked fish sticks because that’s what Legolas and Tauriel were demanding.”   
“Well, he found a talent,” Wednesday said as she piled the plates into the sink, “Let me tell you, the eggs he made our first morning together, were to die for!”   
“Worked up an appetite the night before had you?” Bard joked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.   
“Not really,” Wednesday said, fighting to keep her expression straight, “It was the morning work out I gave him that did that.” Bard laughed as he followed her back into the dining room and took his seat. Wednesday faltered when she reached her seat. There was a sizeable stack of papers sitting next to her wine glass.   
“What’s this?” she asked.   
“Grant applications for art charities,” Thorin said, sifting through more papers, “If we can reduce Project Orcrists investment in the school, we can turn a profit sooner. Here.” He handed another wad over.   
“These are lists of suppliers and their prices for all the equipment we may need,” he explained, “I also need a revised list from you of what we’re going to need as soon as possible.”    
“You’ll also need to put together a price list for lessons,” Balin said, “You should look at other dance schools around the country to get a feel for it.”   
“There’s a supplier in that list that is offering a discount for bulk purchasing on clothing and shoes,” Thorin continued as if he hadn’t heard Balin speak, “I think if we order enough in a range of sizes, we can increase the discount.”   
“The roofs proving a little tricky to fix, it’s going to be at least six weeks before we can move on to renovating the hall,” Dwalin piped up, causing Wednesday’s head to snap in his direction.   
“Are you wanting collapsible or fixed bars?” Thorin spoke from the other side.   
“What range of lessons are you going to offer?”   
“Can I get a reduced rate on the girls lessons?”   
“What’s the youngest age you’ll accept students at?”   
“Do you want the walls cream or magnolia?”   
“Are floor-to-ceiling mirrors necessary?”   
“Wednesday, when are you going to fill in those grant applications?” 

 

I NEED A CIGARETTE!

 

Wednesday abruptly pushed away from the table and half-ran from the room. She knew the reason for tonight’s meeting was to discuss Project Orcrist but she hadn’t expected to be bombarded with questions so suddenly. She sprinted up the stairs and didn’t stop until she had slammed the bedroom door shut behind her, panting as she leaned against it for a moment. She felt tense, her mind was racing but there was one overriding thought and it revolved around the little carton hidden in the bottom drawer of her nightstand. She pushed off the door and headed for the drawer. She could feel the tension start to dissipate as soon as she saw it. A little battered carton of cigarettes. She had bought it six months ago. She smoked rarely but tonight had put her on edge. She opened the doors onto the balcony and stepped out. Once out in the cool air, away from the heat and the noise of the house, she felt another iota of tension slip away. She tapped the carton for a moment, pondering on whether or not she needed a cigarette or not. She sighed, opening it up and pulling out one and the lighter she had stored in there. She lit it and took a deep drag, feeling instantly soothed.

 

It was a couple of minutes later that she heard the bedroom door open and then close. She glanced over her shoulder. Thranduil lingered at the door.   
“I err, I guess I should have mentioned this,” she said, gesturing the hand that held her vice.   
“I knew,” he said, moving towards her, “It’s not exactly a habit that can be hidden completely. I’d catch a whiff of it when I held you close, or when I kissed you. I don’t understand why you hid it.”   
“I don’t know,” she admitted, “You’re not disgusted?”   
“You know, they’re all currently smoking cigars downstairs,” Thranduil answered, gesturing towards the door, “And drinking my good whiskey. Tomorrow morning, this whole house is going to smell of tobacco, alcohol, sweat and, given that Bofur’s here, bodily gases. So, no, I’m not disgusted. I had the same habit too once upon a time.”   
“When did you stop?” she asked.   
“When my wife died,” he said, stepping out onto the balcony, “Now, come on, come back downstairs. Thorin and the others have been told to put together a ‘to-do’ list for you to work through at your own pace and if Bard asks about discounts again, he’s going to get punched.”   
“In the head?”   
“In the dick, so he’ll remember it better,” Thranduil replied, sliding one arm around her waist. A smile crept across his face as he looked down at her. Wednesday took a final drag before stubbing out the cigarette. She slid the lighter back into the carton and tossed it on the bed as she headed back into the room.   
“You’re not bringing them down with you?” Thranduil asked, following her.   
“No, don’t need another one,” she replied.

  
The hum of conversation was low when they returned to the table. Thranduil was right; a small cloud of cigar smoke hovered above the men’s heads, a whiskey glass to the right of each of them, a small stack of papers in front of them, some of them taking notes. A neat stack stood in front of Wednesday’s chair, a page torn from a notebook lay on the top. Her ‘to-do’ list was finished already. She took her seat as the conversation stopped. Thorin turned to look at her.   
“Please accept my apologies, Wednesday,” he said, “I...I forget that this is all new to you, and that this was Thranduil’s idea. I will give you some space to work from now on.”   
“It’s fine, Thorin,” she replied, touching his arm in a friendly gesture, “I appreciate that you were trying to make this dream become a reality.” Thranduil appeared at her side, placing a freshly-filled wine glass in front of her.   
“No whiskey for me?” she questioned, raising an eyebrow.   
“How much of Christmas Eve do you remember?” he replied with his own.   
“Not much,” she said.   
“That is why you’re not having whiskey,” he said, taking his seat, “Attempting to change your clothes and put you to bed when you’re unconscious is not my idea of a fun time.”   
“Oh, and dragging your drunken ass up the stairs is mine?” Wednesday mocked, reminding him of their engagement party.   
“Are you two sure that working together isn’t going to put a damper on your love life?” Bard joked.   
“Not if this afternoon was anything to go by,” Kili laughed. Everyone’s head swivelled to look at the young Durinson. His face dropped and he went pale.   
“There...well….there was a diaper explosion this afternoon so Tauriel asked me to bring up the clothes she had picked up for you,” he stammered, “I knocked on the door but it was open so I came in and, well, I heard…..I’ve never heard a woman make noises like that before.” There was a long silence as everyone stared at Kili before turning to look at Wednesday and Thranduil. Thranduil looked like thunder, almost as if he was planning on where to hide Kili’s body. Wednesday could feel the heat rising up her face before reminding herself who she was with. This was no time for embarrassment, this was time to return fire.   
“I bet you haven’t,” she said, eyes locked on Kili as she raised her wine glass. Bard burst out laughing, triggering thunderous laughter around the table. ‘Dressing room banter with the girls translated over here,’ she thought, ‘Good to know.’   
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass…” Kili started.   
“The only thing I’m feeling is sorry for Tauriel if you’ve never heard a woman orgasm before,” she cut him off, “Seriously? You’ve never heard her make noise like that?”   
“For a moment, I thought he was murdering you,” Kili admitted, laughing a little. Bard and Dwalin’s laughter resurfaced, tears now streaming down the men’s faces. Balin was a deep shade of red and Thorin had his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking   
“That just means it’s working, Kee,” Fili laughed.   
“Oh what would you know?” Kili retorted, “The last time you were anywhere near a woman was nearly eight months ago when you got that lap dance!”   
“What?!” Thorin bellowed, lifting his head. Bard just keeled over sideways off his chair, wheezing.


	24. Consequences

3 weeks later…

 

Wednesday had never been so excited to arrive at work. She looked up at the building, an old mid-nineteenth century theatre and grinned. Louis’ new club looked stunning on the outside and the inside was just as amazing. It had been completely restored to its original appearance, using more up-to-date and hard wearing materials where possible. This new club was a world away from The Firehouse. Whilst The Firehouse had been a great place to work, it had always had to deal with that ‘strip club’ reputation even though Louis and the rest of the staff had worked hard to make it more than that. This new place however was leaning more towards ‘dinner and cabaret’ than ‘strippers and beer’. It looked classier and Louis was taking advantage of the extensive dance training all the girls had. Everyone, even Ruby, could dance to almost any kind of music. Ballet, Jazz, Modern; you name it, the girls could do it. Some to higher degrees than others, but all of them were competent to say the least. Including the three new male dancers that had created quite buzz amongst the old guard of Firehouse girls. Colin, Hugh and Jude were all young, fresh-faced, impossibly fit and drool-worthy.

 

And all three of them had zero interest in any of the women they were now working with. Colin had brought his boyfriend along on his first day, Hugh’s husband continually sent in amazing, healthy snacks for everyone, and Jude had nearly given Mike the DJ a heart attack when he hit on him the second week of rehearsals. To say Ruby had been disappointed would have been an understatement. Wednesday actually found it a relief. Despite Louis’ best efforts, that element of danger had always hovered in the back of her mind when she had worked the poles at The Firehouse. There was always the possibility that someone would lurk in the parking lot, waiting for her to finish. Or follow her home. Or try to climb on stage to paw at her. Working with male dancers made her feel safer, as silly and unprogressive as it sounded. She didn’t doubt she could fend off anyone who made unwelcome advances, it’s why most of the girls carried their high heeled shoes when they left work rather than putting them in bags. Ruby had told stories about one girl she used to work with, actually taking out a man’s eyeball with a well aimed stiletto. How much of that story was true was up for debate, but the point remained.

 

Wednesday pushed open the door and headed inside. It was rehearsals this week, opening night rapidly approaching. It meant long days spent rehearsing and nights spent soothing sore muscles. But it was worth it. She was back, and it felt like home. She hurried down the corridor, emerging into what was once the main theatre. The rows of seats had been ripped out. Now various booths and tables filled the room, and a large bar occupied the back wall. Louis was behind the bar with Evan, working out what inventory they needed to order.   
“Morning Wednesday,” Evan said without even looking up.   
“Morning!” she called back, heading towards the backstage door. She hurried into the backstage dressing room. The walls were lined with mirrors with lights, each dancer having her own space to get ready. It had only been a week and already, hair brushes and make-up product littered the tables, along with half-drunk water bottles and cans of hairspray. The intermingling scents of the hairspray and several different perfumes made it feel like The Firehouse, like home again. Tiana and some of the other girls were looking through the latest wardrobe arrivals whilst Ruby and Gloria were sat at their stations, having a very serious conversation. Wednesday headed over to her seat between them.   
“Hey,” she said, looking between them, “What’s up?”   
“Nothing,” Gloria said firmly, picking up her hairbrush and running it through her blonde curls.   
“It’s not nothing!” Ruby countered, “I’m telling you, take a damn test.”   
“What’s going on?” Wednesday asked.   
“Our girl here is in denial,” Ruby gestured with her hands at Gloria, “She’s been nauseous all morning, been complaining about her boobs hurting for the last couple of days and she’s been getting cramps.”   
“I’m not taking a test!” Gloria said, slamming down her hairbrush.   
“My sister-in-law had all the same damn symptoms,” Ruby argued.   
“I had my period last week,” Gloria hissed, causing Wednesday to lean back so as not to get caught in a crossfire.   
“You said so yourself, it was super light, barely more than spotting,” Ruby pointed a finger at Gloria, “They’re all pregnancy symptoms!”   
“Fine, I’ll take the stupid test,” Gloria said, “It’ll be negative and then we can all move on.”   
“Good,” said Ruby, “C’mon Wednesday, there’s a pharmacy around the corner, we’ll go get it.” With that, she pushed back from her table and got up. Wednesday scrambled to her feet to follow her, leaving Gloria to chew her lip on her own.

 

“Where are you two going?” Evan called as Ruby and Wednesday headed out.   
“Personal errand, we’ll be back in twenty minutes,” Ruby waved him off.   
“I didn’t know Gloria had a boyfriend,” Wednesday said as they left the theatre.   
“She doesn’t,” said Ruby, “Hence why she’s in denial about the whole thing. I kinda hope the test does come back negative though, otherwise I’m out fifty bucks.”   
“What? Why?”   
“We kinda had a pool going on who was going to have a baby first,” Gloria said, “I put my money on you.”   
“Me?”   
“Well, you’re engaged to that hot slice of action,” Ruby explained, “According to his son, you two are at it like little bunny rabbits all the damn time. Have you two even talked about that yet?”   
“Yeah, we did,” Wednesday replied.   
“Oh dear, that doesn’t sound good for my fifty,” Ruby joked, “What did he say?”   
“That he wants to spend time with it just being us before we bring anyone else into our lives,” Wednesday answered.   
“Translation, he doesn’t want any more kids,” Ruby said bluntly.   
“That’s not what he said,” Wednesday argued, “He specifically said that he does want more just not yet.”   
“Well, I hope I’m wrong then,” Ruby said, “But I can tell by the look on your face that you haven’t finished having that conversation with him yet. Talk to him, let him know that it’s playing on your mind. You don’t want to end up in a relationship where all you can hear is your clock ticking and nobody talking. I’ve been there, it sucks.” They rounded the corner and found the pharmacy.

 

Ten minutes later, they left, a small plastic bag in Wednesdays hand and both women lamenting the cost of a pregnancy test.   
“Seriously, how do they get away with charging a woman that kind of money to find out if she’s screwed or not,” Ruby glared at the receipt, “I tell you what, if it’s negative, Gloria’s paying up and if it’s positive, I’m not buying her anything for her baby shower.”   
“What’s she gonna do if it is positive?” Wednesday asked, “You said so yourself, there’s no boyfriend in the picture.”   
“She’s a strong girl,” Ruby said, “She’ll make the decision that’s best for her either way.” 

 

As they approached the theatre, Wednesday spotted a familiar car parked out the front.   
“What’s Thranduil doing here?” she muttered.   
“Uh-oh,” Ruby laughed, “Looks like you’re going to have that conversation a little sooner.”   
“Oh yeah, that’s going to go down well,” Wednesday said sarcastically, “Me walking in with a pregnancy test in my hand saying ‘hey honey, can we revisit the baby talk for a moment?’”   
“He’s probably just stopping by to chew the fat with Louis,” Ruby reminded her, “C’mon, we’ve got to get Gloria to actually pee on the stick yet.” She led them into the theatre. Sure enough, when they arrived in the main room, Thranduil was leaning on the bar, talking to Louis.   
“You know, we don’t open for another two weeks,” Wednesday called, “If you want to see some naked ladies, you’re gonna have go someplace else...like home.” A grin spread across Thranduil’s face as he saw her until his gaze fell on the bag in her hand. The brand of the test could be seen through the thin plastic.   
“Oh this isn’t for me,” she said quickly.   
“I’ll take that,” Ruby said as she passed, before adding quietly, “Good luck.” She took the bag and headed off backstage, Louis following her.   
“Someone having a scare back there?” Thranduil asked softly.   
“Yeah,” Wednesday said, looking at her feet.   
“What’s on your mind?” he said, brushing her hair behind her ear.   
“It’s just...well,I….” she kept faltering, not sure how to bring the subject up or if it was even a good time to.   
“It’s got you thinking about our conversation about children, hasn’t it?” he offered. She nodded.   
“I’m sorry, I know I agreed with you about waiting,” she admitted, “But I couldn’t help feeling a little….disappointed.” Thranduil sighed and pulled her in close.   
“Look at me,” he said in a low voice. Wednesday slowly raised her eyes to meet his.   
“Believe me when I say that I want the same thing as you,” he said firmly, “But I think we should wait for a while longer. I’ve been thinking, maybe we should give ourselves a timescale, so how’s this? Once we’re married, which I know isn’t anytime soon but by which time Orcrist should be making a return. Once we’re married, you come off your birth control and we’ll start trying, okay? It shouldn’t be any longer than two years.”   
“Two years,” Wednesday said softly, “Actually, that does kind of help. It’s like a fixed point.”   
“Exactly, it’s something we can look towards, and it’s not far off somewhere in the distance,” he said, one hand sliding into her hair and tilting her head back. He leaned in and kissed her lips gently. Her hands slid around his waist and pulled him in closer to her. A low rumble sounded in his chest and she felt his tongue swipe against her mouth. She opened up to him, feeling it tangle with hers and felt him press against her, his cock rapidly hardening before he pulled back.   
“Though if an accident were to happen, I wouldn’t be upset,” he growled before kissing her again. Wednesday whimpered slightly as his hips pressed into hers.   
“Girl, put him down!” a voice made her pull back quickly. 

 

Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Jude, the male dancer, grinning at her.   
“Jude, hi,” she said, pulling out of Thranduil’s arms, “Oh, this is my fiance, Thranduil.”   
“Yeah, I gathered,” Jude said, stepping forward and holding out a hand towards Thranduil, who looked him up and down for a moment. Slowly he  took Judes hand and squeezed it firmly.   
“Hell of a grip, you got there, buddy,” said Jude when Thranduil let go, “For a moment, I thought you were trying to break my hand.” He laughed and brushed his chocolate-brown hair from his eyes.   
“So you’re the one who put a ring on her finger,” he continued, “You’re a lucky man, she’s amazing, Kind, funny, hell of a dancer.”   
“Yes, she is,” Thranduil’s voice seemed deeper, his blue eyes fixed an icy glare on Jude.   
“Well, I’ll see you around,” Jude’s cheer seemed to falter as he stepped around Thranduil and headed backstage. Wednesday glanced between the two as he went. Thranduil seemed tense and Jude was practically running with his tail between his legs.   
“What’s your problem?” she asked.   
“You never said there were male dancers here now,” Thranduil grumbled.   
“Oh, did I not?” she replied, “My bad, are you jealous?”   
“No...yes,” he said, practically pouting.   
“Oh come on, Thranduil,” she said laughing, “You’ve got no need to be.”   
“He gets to spend his time pressed up against you,” Thranduil muttered, “And I know how much you lot all bond backstage. And the way he looks at you….”   
“Is platonic,” Wednesday cut him off, “Trust me, he’s more interested in you than he is me.” Thranduil raised one eyebrow.   
“Jude is gay,” Wednesday explained, “He hit on Mike his second week here. It’s the same with the other two male dancers. One is married, the other is in a long-term committed relationship, both with other men.”   
“Oh,” said Thranduil, his shoulders relaxing a little, “Alright then.”   
“I can’t believe you got jealous,” Wednesday laughed, “What are you doing here anyway?”   
“My company invested with Louis before Thorin came to me about Orcrist,” he said, “I thought I’d come by and check on how he was doing, and , of course, get to see you in action.”   
“How sweet,” Wednesday said, reaching up and stroking his cheek, “I’d love to stay and chat, but as you know, we have a mini crisis backstage. I should go see what the damage is.”   
“I love you,” he said, bending down and kissing her cheek.   
“Love you too,” she replied.

 

She headed backstage, immediately struck by the odd hush. She headed to the dressing room. Tuana and the other girls had straight faces, simply gesturing towards Louis’ office. Wednesday hurried in. Ruby was leaning against one wall, Louis was sat on the corner of the desk. Gloria sat in one of the chairs, holding the test in her hand.   
“Well?” Wednesday asked.   
“Well? I’m out fifty bucks,” Ruby said, her eyes fixed on Gloria. Wednesday moved to crouch down next to the woman.   
“Gloria?” she said tentatively, “Are you ok?” Gloria shook her head.   
“I was so stupid,” she whispered, “I thought just once wouldn’t hurt, everyone takes a risk once in a while. He’s going to hate me, he’s going to think I’m after his money.”   
“Who? The father?” Wednesday asked. Gloria nodded.   
“Who is he?” Wednesday probed further, “Maybe I can help.” Gloria blinked back tears and looked at her.   
“It’s Thorin.”


	25. Switch

“I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” Wednesday asked, a little dumbstruck.   
“Thorin,” Gloria repeated quietly, “He’s the only guy I’ve been with in…..forever practically.”   
“So, you slept with Thorin Durinson, the same day you met him, without protection,” Wednesday repeated slowly. Gloria nodded sheepishly.   
“Did you bang your head or something?!” Wednesday snapped, “You’re the one who questioned me on being safe with Thranduil!”   
“I know! I’m sorry!” Gloria sobbed, “It was spur of the moment and I didn’t think properly! It was just so….urghhh! I couldn’t find the right moment to ask him if he had anything and we were both a little drunk, and he’s soooo….” Gloria balled her fists up and smacked herself in the head with them.   
“I’m so stupid and he’s going to be so mad,” she wailed.   
“Well, so long as he’s mad at himself too,” Wednesday said, standing up straight, “It takes two to tango. When are you going to tell him?”   
“How? I don’t even have his number,” Gloria admitted, “I gave him mine and he said he would call but I’ve not heard anything.”   
“That’s cause he got what he wanted,” Ruby quipped.   
“Knowing Thorin, he probably hasn’t even realised it’s been over a month,” Wednesday said, “Hang on, I’ll get his number.” She turned and left the office.

 

She found Thranduil talking to Evan, almost exactly where she’d left him. She strode up to him and reached into his inside pocket, where she knew he kept his phone.   
“Can I help you?” he asked, “Or is this just an excuse to touch me up?”   
“No, I need to call Thorin,” she said, unlocking his phone with a passcode. Legolas’ birthday, how unoriginal.   
“Why?”   
“It’s Gloria who’s pregnant,” Wednesday answered as she scrolled through his contacts, “And he’s the only one she’s been with so…”   
“Text him,” Thranduil said, all the humour vanishing from his voice, “He’ll answer straight away.”   
“How do I get him here? Without telling him that Gloria’s pregnant?” Wednesday wondered aloud. She hadn’t really thought this through.   
“Give me the phone,” he said, holding his hand out. Wednesday handed it back and Thranduil began typing. The phone beeped to show the text had been sent. Thirty seconds later, it beeped again.   
“He’s on his way,” Thranduil said.   
“How did you do that?”   
“I just told him I needed him to meet me here as soon as possible and that it was urgent,” he said, “Thorin hates unexpected phone calls. I always have to text him before I call anyway.”   
“Will you send him through once he’s here?” she asked.   
“Of course,” he said, “You go take care of Gloria, I can only imagine she’s in a bit of a state at the moment.” Wednesday nodded.

 

*

 

Thorin recognised Thranduil’s car pulled up outside the address he’d been sent. He glanced up as he turned off the engine. Mid-nineteenth century, a former theatre, with a sign indicating it had just been leased. Why had Thranduil text him to meet him here? He got out the car and headed to the front door. Luckily today was a quiet day for him, no meetings or deadlines that needed dealing with, the closest thing he had to a day off, and the perfect day to let Fili stretch his executive muscles. Thorin didn’t plan on working forever; he wanted a nice quiet retirement in Lake Dale in twenty or thirty years where he could enjoy the fruits of his labour. The Arkenstone anti-virus software was a global bestseller and had put the Oakenshield Software Company on the map with sales growing annually. Thorin didn’t have any children of his own, he hadn’t had time. So five years before, on his fortieth birthday, he had approached his eldest nephew, Fili, about taking over Oakenshield one day. Fili was a good worker but he’d lacked focus and purpose. Being offered the role of CEO once Thorin retired had given him that. Now after five years of training and guidance, he was in the role temporarily, whilst Thorin dealt with whatever it was ElfKing had in store for him.

 

Upon entering the building, he noticed it had recently been renovated. He could still smell the lingering scent of fresh paint and the carpets felt soft and bouncy beneath his shoes. He could hear the murmur of voices come across the foyer from what would be the main theatre room. He followed it, pushing open the hand-carved doors. To his left, he noticed a bar had been installed where the back three rows of seats would have been. Thranduil was leaning on the bar, talking to a young man with light-brown hair. Thranduil looked up as he entered.   
“Thorin,” he said firmly, “You’re needed backstage.”   
“What is this place?” Thorin asked.   
“Something Woodland Realm invested in a few months ago,” he said, “This isn’t about business though. The door by the stage, Wednesday will be waiting for you.” Thorin followed where Thranduil was pointing and noticed a plain black door. He headed for it, an unsettled feeling in his stomach. Going through the door, he found Thranduil’s fiancee waiting for him.   
“Hi Thorin,” she said, none of the usual cheer in her voice and making him wonder if someone had died. She indicated for him to follow her and he did. He followed her through a corridor and then into a large dressing room. Several women stood around, in various states of dress, all of them looking up at him with unfamiliar faces. The scent of hairspray and all their different perfumes was a little overpowering so he was relieved when Wednesday headed towards a door at the back of the room. He followed and found himself being show into an office. He recognised the red-headed woman stood by the wall as Ruby, one of Wednesday’s friends he’d met at her engagement party a month before. A man with dark hair was stood next to her. They’d been having a conversation that ceased the moment Thorin entered. Seated on one of the chairs in front of the large desk was someone else who was familiar. Gloria. Her long blond curls hid her face as she looked down at the floor and fiddled with something in her hands.   
“We’ll leave you to it,” Wednesday said quietly before backing out the room. Ruby and the man followed her, leaving him with Gloria.

 

She didn’t seem in a hurry to speak, so he lingered by the closed door for a few moments, looking around. He wondered if he should attempt small talk.   
“You should probably sit down,” Gloria eventually spoke, her voice quiet. He strode over and sat on the chair next to her.   
“What is it?” he asked as he looked at her, “What’s going on?” She looked up at him, her blue eyes looked dark in the low light of the office but he knew they were the most perfect shade of blue, like the winter sky. He knew her hair was soft to the touch and smelled of lavender. He knew her curves were soft and warm with a heat that could reach a man’s deepest soul. One earth-shattering night he had spent with her, what was it….four weeks ago or more. He felt a twinge of guilt. He should have called her before now, he knew he should have. But there had been developments he hadn’t anticipated and it had fallen by the wayside. Then he noticed, her eyes were rimmed with red. She had been crying. The guilt came back. Had he been the cause of that? He hadn’t intended to hurt her.   
“There’s no easy way to say this,” she said softly before extending her hand out, holding something towards him. Without thinking, he took it before looking down. It was a long white stick. His stomach dropped a little as he turned it over to see a little box on the other side. There was something displayed in the box. One word. Pregnant.

 

Shit.

 

Shit.

 

Shit.

 

“Thorin?” her voice called him from his thoughts and his head shot up.   
“I’m sorry,” he said, “I should have called you.” He looked back down at the test in his hand.   
“Do….do you…” he struggled to get his brain to follow a train of thought, “Do you want to keep it?”   
“I don’t know yet,” she replied, “I was hoping if you told me how you felt, it might help me make a decision.” Thorin put the test on the desk and stood up. He couldn’t sit still, he had to move so he started pacing around the office. A million questions ran through his mind, none of which he could vocalise.   
“What do you want to do?” Gloria asked. He paused and looked down at her. She was looking back up at him. He could almost feel her against him like she had been that insanely passionate night where he had taken her over and over again. How could he have been so stupid as to not protect them both? He ground the heels of his hands into his eyes and groaned before looking at her again. He briefly wondered if she had done this on purpose but he quickly dashed the question from his mind. No. Gloria was too sweet and pure for that. She wasn’t calculating or scheming.    
“I don’t know,” he said honestly, letting his hands drop to his sides, “I don’t know. Can….can you give me a few hours? To process everything, get it all straight in my head.” Gloria nodded eagerly, as uncomfortable with this conversation as he was.

“I’m sorry,” she said.   
“No, don’t be,” he said, reaching out and brushing a hand through her hair, “Don’t ever be sorry.” He pulled his hand away and reached into his pocket. He pulled out his phone and opened up the calendar.   
“I’m setting a reminder for seven tonight, to call you,” he said, “If you haven’t heard from me by eight, feel free to call Wednesday and have Thranduil come round and kick my backside into gear.” Gloria nodded and stood up. Her hand touched his.   
“I didn’t plan this, I swear,” she said. He looked at her. Sweet and pure. He leaned in and kissed her cheek, exactly as the night they had spent together had started. It sent flutters in his stomach to think about but he quickly squashed them down.   
“I know you didn’t,” he said, putting his phone back in his pocket, “Thank you for telling me. I will call you tonight, I promise.” She nodded again and he pulled away. What a fine mess he was in.

 

*

 

Wednesday signed what felt like the millionth grant application and groaned as her hand cramped. She wasn’t sure what was distracting her more tonight; the cramp in her hand, the growling in her stomach or the fact that at some point in the next hour, Gloria would be hearing from Thorin. She couldn’t believe it. Gloria was pregnant, with Thorin’s child. They’d had a short talk in Louis’ office. Thorin had asked for some time to process what was happening. Gloria had agreed as she needed to get her own head straight. Everyone had been so distracted by all the drama, that Louis had sent everyone home. Their heads just weren’t in the game so Wednesday had sat down at the dining table and started making a little more progress on her ‘to-do’ list for the dance school. Thranduil had joined her a couple of hours later to work more on the proposal she had to make to the Orcrist board and to help her work out potential pricing. Legolas had also joined them after he finished work and began working on his latest contribution to Orcrist. An Etsy-style website for the local people of Lake Dale to sell their crafts on. The people of Lake Dale were very good with their hands. They knit, crocheted, made one-of-a-kind silver jewelry, all sorts, but selling to a wider market meant travelling and that was expensive and ate into profits. Legolas’ plan was to get them online, to get customers to come to them. The website would also advertise the small beach houses that Dwalin and Bard were currently renovating. As of the next April, the houses would be let out to tourists, the profits going back into Project Orcrist. 

 

The buzzer went off and Legolas sprang from his seat to go get the take-out they had ordered. Wednesday threw her pen down and pushed the papers away.   
“You’ve made quite a dent in that,” Thranduil murmured, keeping his eyes focussed on his laptop screen.   
“I’d have made more if I wasn’t distracted by what’s happening with Thorin and Gloria,” she admitted.   
“I still can’t believe neither of them thought about the risk,” Thranduil said, “I mean, Thorin’s met Legolas, he knows how he came about. That ‘just once won’t hurt’ is a folly.”   
“How do you mean?” Wednesday asked.   
“Legolas is the result of ‘just once won’t hurt’,” Thranduil admitted, “Did you never work it out?” Wednesday looked at Thranduil and started doing the maths in her head.   
“You were seventeen,” she said softly.   
“Yep, seventeen, hopelessly in love and a slave to my hormones,” he sighed, “Dís wasn’t much older when she fell pregnant with Fili, but he apparently was planned.”   
“Everyone makes mistakes though,” he added as Wednesday chewed her lip.   
“What mistakes?” Legolas asked as he returned with the take-out, “You talking about me again?” He sat down next to his father.   
“Best mistake of my life,” Thranduil said, grinning. He reached over, grabbed Legolas’ head and placed an overly dramatic kiss on his son’s hair.   
“You drunk again?” Legolas laughed as Thranduil closed his laptop and pulled Legolas’ in front of him.   
“This looks incredible,” he said, smiling at his son, “This right here, website design, is your calling. If a spot opens up in the website department at Woodland Realm, I’ll be putting your name forward.”   
“Thanks, Dad,” Legolas said. He looked like he was going to say something but instead turned back to the cartons in front of him. He handed them out before picking up some chopsticks.   
“So, what time did Thorin say he would call Gloria?” he asked, drawing the conversation back to Thorin and Gloria.   
“Before eight, if not your Dad gets to go and kick his ass,” Wednesday said, prompting a grin from Thranduil.   
“First justifiable reason I’ve ever had,” he said, his mouth full of rice.   
“Which means we have a long hour to go before we do anything,” Wednesday continued, pretending she hadn’t heard him, “Do you think he’ll keep his promise?”   
“Thorin takes family very seriously,” Thranduil mused, having swallowed his food, “He’s not going to turn his back on Gloria, not when she’s carrying a Durinson heir. I don’t think he’s going to suggest that she has a termination either. He’s heading into his late forties and this would be his first child, someone to carry on his legacy and family name.”   
“I thought Fili and Kili had the Durinson name?” Legolas asked.   
“They call themselves Durinson, but legally their name is Stonebridge, Zak’s family name,” Thranduil stabbed a piece of sweet and sour pork with a chopstick, “Dís and Thorin have been waging a legal battle for years to change the boys birth certificates but Zak’s got it all tangled up with the divorce proceedings now. He always manages to bring it before a judge who favours him over Dís too. Holly has the name Durinson, but Zak’s trying to change that too. I don’t know how he finds these loopholes in the law but he does and he manipulates them. Tauriel has called me twice this past week in tears over it all, she even called me ‘Dad’ at one point. That’s how you know she’s upset.” Legolas’ face creased into a frown.    
“Can we do anything to help ease her mind?” he asked. Thranduil cast a quick glance at Wednesday. They couldn’t mention the DNA test which was still waiting in the backlog of the lab testing it.   
“I’m thinking of calling her godmother next week,” he said, looking back at his son.   
“What? Galadriel?” Legolas’ face brightened.   
“Yeah, she’s always been able to cheer Tauriel up no matter what,” Thranduil said, “Plus, with Lady Of Light Event Planning being the best wedding planners in the country, she may be able to help Tauriel with planning her nuptials.”   
“It’d be a good distraction at the very least,” Legolas said, polishing off the last bite from his take-out, “I’m going to call it a night and do some more work upstairs.” He dropped his chopsticks into the carton and stood up, lifting his laptop as he went.   
“I’m err, going to test out these new noise-cancelling headphones tonight,” he said, almost casually, “So if you two….” He let the sentence hang in midair.   
“Thanks, Legolas,” Wednesday said, blushing a little, “But we’ll try to be quiet.”   
“If you two are ever quiet, it’ll be a miracle,” Legolas joked, “Goodnight.” He turned and headed towards the stairs.

 

Once he was out of sight, Thranduil reached over and covered one of Wednesday’s hands with his.   
“What do you say to a nice relaxing hot bath with a bottle of wine?” he suggested.   
“I think we could definitely use one after today,” she agreed.   
“Go pick out a bottle, get two glasses and meet me upstairs then,” he said, standing up. He leaned in and kissed her cheek before stepping away. Wednesday watched him go, admiring his long, powerful legs and broad shoulders as he went. How had he gone fifteen years without someone snapping him up? Then again, for most of that time, he’d had two children to raise and a company to run. She sighed and turned her attention to the table. She snorted. Typical Elfking men had disappeared and left her to pick up again. She stood up and gathered the empty take-out cartons to deposit in the trash. Then she took the empty coffee cups into the kitchen and rinsed them out. She put all her paperwork into the box folder under the coffee table in the living room where she also plugged Thranduil’s laptop back on to charge. Otherwise, she knew he’d forget and would be stomping around the apartment, fuming, the next morning when his laptop was dead. She then headed back to the fully-stocked wine fridge in the kitchen and selected her favourite Pinot Grigio and two glasses and a corkscrew before heading upstairs. She went to the bedroom first, stripping out of her clothes and slipping on a bathrobe instead before heading to the bathroom, checking her phone was in her pocket. She was still waiting for a phone call from Gloria afterall. 

 

The lights were dimmed as she entered, dozens of candles around the sunken tub were lit and Thranduil was already in the water, most of his body obscured by foam and bubbles. He looked completely relaxed, his head tilted back and his eyes closed. Something she hadn’t seen since they had returned from Lake Dale and he’d resumed work as well as Project Orcrist. She set the bottle, glasses and corkscrew down at the side of the bath, along with her phone. At the sound of glass on tile, he opened his eyes and watched her as she loosened the belt on her robe and slowly slipped it off. He shifted in the tub and she smirked. He still had the same reaction to seeing her naked as he always had. His pupils dilated even more than they already were in the low light as his gaze fixed on her, watching with eager anticipation as she lowered herself into the hot water with him. In seconds his hands were on her, pulling her into his chest, making her legs straddle him. His mouth claimed hers in a rough kiss.   
“Gods, you’re fucking sexy,” he growled, one hand sliding down her back to cup her rear.   
“Speak for yourself,” she responded, nipping at his lips. The water sloshed around  them as he pulled her higher up his body so he could reach her breasts with his mouth. He suckled at one as he probed her with his fingers. Her own weaved into his hair, holding him in place as he teased her nipples into aching peaks. He growled again and pulled her back down so he could kiss her mouth and she felt the blunt head of his cock press insistently at her entrance. She rocked her hips back and forth, teasing him, making him whimper and try to push her down onto him. But she resisted, enjoying making him squirm and his hips buck up towards her.   
“Please, baby,” he pleaded with her, “Please. I need it; I need you, I need to be inside you.” She kissed him again, plunging her tongue between his lips, feeling him moan and groan beneath her as their tongues danced together. His hands clawed at her back, desperately trying to get her to sink down on to him. Each time he tried to pull her down, she pushed against his shoulder, making him stop. Eventually she pulled out of the kiss. His eyes were practically black, his skin hot to the touch with feverish desire and his hard cock throbbing against her.   
“I think we should have a glass of wine,” she said softly.   
“I think we should fuck,” he responded, trying to lean in for another kiss.   
“Oh, we will,” she replied, a sly grin on her face, “But you’re going to wait until I say you can. I think it will do you some good to be the one following orders for once, Elfking.” This time, he literally growled in response, his fingers digging into her hips. She lifted herself to her feet in order to reach the wine and glasses behind him, his hands slipping obediently from her as she stood. She knew this wasn’t his natural stance in these matters, being the more submissive partner. They’d never had an encounter where he hadn’t led the way. And she admired the patience he was showing as she stood in front of him, her wet, warm pussy mere inches from his face. She glanced down at him, wine bottle in one hand, corkscrew in the other, seeing the look of a man barely restraining himself on his face.    
“You can touch,” she said calmly, “But only with your mouth.”

 

In a second, he had moved forward, tilting his head back slightly so that he could run his tongue along her lower lips, probing between them and finding her clit.   
“Good boy,” she cooed, rocking her hips gently in time with his licks, “Oh, yes, Thranduil, that’s so good.” He moaned against her flesh and she could just about see his cock bob in the water at her praise. He was enjoying this.   
“Hold me steady, baby,” she said softly as she moved a little. His hands came up to grip her thighs as he tilted his head back even more so she could ride his mouth. He thrust his tongue up into her and she heard the water move as his hips bucked at the taste. He began lapping at her, slurping as he went and twirling his tongue over her clit.   
“Oh, yes, baby,” she panted, “Just a little more.” He whimpered beneath her until she suddenly pulled away. His tongue was still hanging out a little, as if desperate for one more taste before she went.   
“More,” he whined.   
“Later,” she promised, “Help me open this wine first.” She sank to her knees, straddling his long legs, holding up the wine and the corkscrew. He reached up to take them from her but his hands were shaking.   
“Easy now,” she whispered, “Let’s do this together or you’re going to drop something.” He nodded, seemingly incapable of speech for the moment. Her hands covered his, helping him twist in the corkscrew and lift the cork out a little. He pulled the bottle free and wrenched the cork out easily.   
“Good boy,” she said again, reaching behind him for the glasses. This time, his mouth found a breast and he suckled for a moment until she pulled back.   
“Who told you that you could do that?” she asked, trying to keep her voice firm.   
“You keep talking to me like that and I’m going to cum before I even get inside you,” he replied, flashing a challenging look at her.   
“Now that would be disappointing,” she whispered, holding up the glasses. His hands seemed steadier as he poured them both a glass before setting the bottle back on the side. Wednesday turned around, sitting between his legs and leaning back against his chest, his hard cock trapped between them. She sipped at her wine. Thranduil swallowed his in two mouthfuls before putting his glass down next to the bottle. He went to touch her and then paused. Wednesday took another deliberate sip slowly.   
“You may touch me,” she said, fighting to keep her voice steady, “With your hands and your mouth but not between my legs.” She could feel his chest rising and falling behind her rapidly as his hands moved to her waist. His lips caressed the skin just below her ear, his tongue peeking out to run along it. She sighed happily and tilted her head to one side to give him better access. One hand lifted to move her hair aside so he could nip at the skin on the back of her neck.   
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, making her shiver, “So gorgeous, sexy and demanding. And all mine.” His teeth grazed the fleshy part of her ear before licking it. She gasped and her free hand shot up to grip his hair. He pulled her further into him, rolling his hips so she could feel his almost painful erection digging into her back.   
“All mine,” he repeated. She turned her head to kiss him again when her phone began ringing. She groaned.   
“Leave it,” Thranduil pleaded. Wednesday glanced over at the phone.   
“It’s Gloria,” she said, “I have to answer, but, feel free to keep touching me.” He growled again.

 

She leaned over, putting down her wine glass and grabbed her phone, answering the call as Thranduil trailed his hands up and down her sides.   
“Gloria, what’s happening?” she asked.   
“Hey Wednesday,” Gloria’s voice sounded light and cheerful, sending a rush of relief through Wednesday.   
“God, it sounds like everything’s ok,” Wednesday sighed, leaning back and resting her head on Thranduil’s shoulder.   
“It is. He took the few hours to go and think,” Gloria explained, “And he’s happy for me to keep the baby, and I do want to. I’ve always wanted to be a mom. He’s booked an appointment with his private doctor to get everything checked out and we’ll go from there. We’re gonna work out how we’re going to do this after that.”   
“Oh that sounds great,” Wednesday sighed as Thranduil trailed his fingers up and down her stomach, stopping just short of her womanhood.   
“There is one thing though,” Gloria said hesitantly. Wednesday sat up straight and pushed Thranduil’s hands away.   
“What?” she asked.   
“Apparently, he’s seeing someone,” Gloria said softly, “It didn’t start until after we slept together, but it had sort of been bubbling away just under the surface for a while and there seems to be some pretty serious feelings involved now. He’s telling them tonight, and giving them an in-or-out option. But he said that our baby is top priority, and if this someone doesn’t like the idea, they can go.”   
“Yeah, Thranduil said something about Thorin always putting family first,” Wednesday replied, “I didn’t know he was seeing someone though. Did he tell you anything about them?”   
“No, just that there was someone,” Gloria said, “He said that he didn’t want to burden me with details if they’re not going to be involved.”   
“Well, still, this is probably the best outcome you could have hoped for,” Wednesday said.   
“Yeah,” Gloria agreed, “I’m gonna go. I’m pretty tired, but I knew I needed to call you and tell you to call off Thranduil. I’ll see you at work soon. Goodnight.”   
“Goodnight, Gloria,” Wednesday said before hanging up and tossing her phone to the side of the bath. 

 

She relaxed back into Thranduil and he resumed his previous ministrations.   
“Good news?” he asked.   
“Yeah,” she replied.   
“Tell me about it in the morning,” he said, “Now, where were we?” He cupped her breasts, his thumbs rolling over her nipples. She gasped and pushed her chest out, deeper into his large hands. She pushed away from him and turned to face him, straddling his thighs again. She held his face in her hands and kissed him again, her tongue enticing his to dance with it. His hands held her hips as his own rolled upwards, desperately seeking her heat.   
“Wednesday,” he moaned when their lips parted for breath. She raised herself up slightly and groaned as his mouth closed over her breast. He rolled her taut nipple with his tongue before kissing and nipping his way along the underside of her breast. His fingers ran down the backs of her thighs but never slipping between them.   
“Tell me what you want?” she whispered just loud enough for him to hear.   
“You, all of you,” he replied, lips grazing the delicate skin of her breasts, “But right now, mostly, your cunt on my mouth.” Wednesday rose to her feet, her hand gently pushing his head back to the right angle so he could lap at her womanhood once again. He groaned like a starving man upon finding his first meal in a month. His tongue pushed its way into the softness within before trailing up to find her clit. His lips closed over it and Wednesday’s legs shook a little. She stepped backwards, pulling herself away from his mouth and he whimpered at the loss. She beckoned him to follow as she backed away to the side of the tub and gracefully climbed out. 

 

She just reached the heated towel rack, retrieving two fluffy grey towels before his legs remembered how to work and he followed. He stood before her, dripping wet, his chest heaving and his cock standing straight up. She handed him one of the towels and they started to dry each other off. Thranduil paid close attention to her breasts and paused when he came to the juncture of her thighs, looking to her for permission.   
“Yes,” she said and he immediately moved his hand and the towel between them. She grinned. For being such a naturally dominant person, he was taking this more submissive role very seriously. Perhaps it was because he knew what was expected of him. He didn’t deliberately rub her clit or massage her womanhood as he dried her and as a reward, Wednesday grasped his stiff cock in her hand, gently squeezing and stroking as she dried him off. She paid particular attention to around the base of his shaft, gently cupping each ball and feeling how tight and heavy it felt. He groaned and the towel fell from his hand, it’s task completed. Wednesday dropped to her knees before him, her towel also lying abandoned on the floor. She leaned in and licked the tip of his penis before taking the whole head in her mouth. She gently ran her lips and tongue back and forth over it a few times, causing him to whimper and curse. She pulled back.   
“Think you can make it to the bedroom?” she asked. Thranduil seemed incapable of speech but he nodded vigorously. She pressed a kiss to the head.   
“Fuck,” he breathed as she rose to her feet. She grabbed her robe from the floor and put it back on as he grabbed his from the hook on the back of the door.

 

Once they were securely fastened, she pulled his head down to hers and kissed him with renewed vigour. Their tongues tangled and fought for supremacy and not just in their mouths but out in the open too. More like teenagers making out than two adults. She opened the bathroom door and led him out, running her hands up and down his arms as his cupped her head.   
“I love you,” he breathed between kisses, “I love you so much.” They made it down the hallway without incident and into their bedroom. Thranduil kicked the door shut behind them, his hands slipping to the belt of her robe before hesitating.   
“Take it off,” she whispered against his mouth. His strong hands gripped the belt and pulled it loose as hers did the same. As one, they each removed the others robes before clashing their gloriously bare bodies together.   
“On your knees,” Wednesday whispered, determined to enjoy one last moment of dominance before he snapped. Thranduil dropped to his knees and immediately began kissing the tops of her thighs and caressing where they joined.   
“Please,” he whispered, “Please.”   
“Lick it,” she commanded. He yanked her towards him until her pussy was on his mouth again. Sparks shot through Wednesday’s body as she felt his teeth brush against her clit. Her fingers sank into his hair as she ground herself against his willing tongue.   
“Oh yes, yes,” she cried, “Oh, fuck yes, Thranduil. That’s it, baby.” He was doing so good, fucking her with his tongue, keeping his hands anywhere but between her legs. He was doing good, and deserved a reward.   
“Thranduil,” she sighed, “You can fuck me now.”

 

Next thing she knew, she was on her knees and he was standing before her, his hands on her head and the blunt head of his throbbing cock at her lips. She opened her mouth and took him in. He rolled his hips back and forth slowly, gently, letting her take in a little more each time. Wednesday focussed on relaxing her throat, so she could take more of him in. She reminded herself to stay calm and focus on breathing in as he pulled out more and more until felt her nose brush against the soft hair at the base of his shaft. She almost choked at the thought of taking his length in through her mouth but he swiftly pulled back. He pulled her to her feet, kissing her again and whispering to her about how proud he was off her. He scooped her up and quickly deposited her on their bed, rolling her onto her front.   
“Hips in the air, baby,” he whispered, his hands guiding her, “Gods, I want to fuck you so hard right now.”   
“Do it,” she ordered. She felt his fingers dig in to her soft flesh, holding her in place as he slammed his hips into hers. He immediately hit that sweet spot and she cried out. He held still, breathing deeply, his hips cradling her backside as his hands ran up and down her back. She whimpered and tried to move.   
“Move, Thranduil,” she said, “Move, dammit.” He moved, but only to press her hips down onto the bed, making her lay flat.   
“I must admit, my love,” he whispered, “I have rather enjoyed your little performance this evening. Telling me what I can and can’t do. Gods, your cunt never tasted sweeter than when I couldn’t touch it with my hands, but you should have punished me more for stealing a taste of your glorious tits. You should have denied me access to you, or brought me to the brink of orgasm before denying it to me.”   
“You like that sort of thing?” she whimpered as he ground his hips very slowly against her.   
“Not all the time,” he replied, “But on occasion, yes, I would like to see you take more control. Order me around. Like now, what would you like me to do, my queen? Do you want me to fuck you from behind? Below you or dominating you? Your wish, tonight, is my command.” Wednesday drew a few deep breaths, trying to clear her mind so she could think.   
“I want...I want…” she started, “I want you on your back whilst I ride your mouth.” Thranduil groaned and pushed into her a little more.   
“I don’t want to take my cock out of this sweet pussy,” he growled. Wednesday looked back at him.   
“Do as your queen commands,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. Thranduil immediately pulled out of her and moved to lay beside her. Wednesday was practically trembling at the thought of totally dominating him. She had honestly thought that once they reached the bedroom, he would pound her into sweet oblivion. But here he was, handing her complete power, and a new term of endearment to boot.

 

She locked eyes with him, not breaking contact until she moved to kneel over him, facing away from him. She heard him moan as she lowered herself onto his waiting mouth. Immediately, his tongue resumed its previous adventures that night, licking and exploring. Wednesday rocked her hips to rub her clit against it. She looked down and saw his cock move with every little moan she made. He looked swollen to the point of pain.   
“Touch yourself,” she ordered in a calm voice. A desperate mewl came from between her legs as he stopped licking her for a moment. One of his hands came up and grasped his length before he resumed his ministrations, this time slowly stroking himself as he went. He began to moan more, the bulbous head of his penis turning a shocking shade of red, desperate for release. She wondered if she could potentially tell him to stop, to leave him in this agony all night with no release. She didn’t doubt he would. He’d be confused and frustrated but he would still obey. She also had no doubt that he would soon bring her to orgasm, the tip of his tongue flicking furiously at her clit. She was so close! And so was he. The veins in his cock were starting to stick out, the head was leaking and his movements were starting to become erratic.   
“Are you going to cum?” she asked. She heard his muffled affirmative response and felt him nod. She quickly swung her leg from over his head leaving him whimpering and moaning at the loss. She turned herself around and straddled him, leaning her head in close to his.   
“Inside me, baby,” she whispered and she felt his hips move. He slid inside her so easily and she groaned, pressing her forehead to his.   
“Fuck me,” she whispered, “And hold me.” She felt his legs move as he braced himself on the bed. One arm slid over her back, the hand coming up to cradle her head against his, the other swooped over her hips to guide her. He began to thrust, his jaw clenched. He looked on the verge of tears as their hips met over and over.   
“I love you,” he said, his voice shaking.   
“I love you too,” she said, “Now, cum. Cum inside me, as deep as you can.” A few more thrusts and his whole body tensed. His impossibly hard cock swelled inside her before pumping out his seed. Wednesday felt like she shattered into a million pieces, her hips jolting backwards onto him, her inner muscles clamping down on him, holding him inside. Her back arched as she cried out and she felt Thranduil’s mouth close over one nipple, suckling as he continued to cum inside her. Wednesday’s chest heaved and she felt tears drip down her cheeks. Gradually she felt herself relaxing, the aftershocks of her orgasm dissipating. Thranduil still throbbed inside her but it appeared he had nothing left to give her, no rushes of heat accompanied the movements. He rolled them to the side, his mouth still on her breast, one hand on the other tweaking the nipple. She looked down at him, one hand stroking his platinum hair away from his face. She found, like her, there were a few stray tears on his cheekbones. She wiped them away with her thumb, earning her a renewed tug of his lips at her breast, even as he softened and slipped from her body. He seemed in no hurry to stop so she happily lay there and let him bring himself back to reality slowly. His attentions kept the post-orgasm warmth seeping through her veins as she stroked his hair.

 

After a while, he pulled back from her breast for a moment before uttering one word.   
“More.”

 

*

 

Meanwhile, across town….

 

Thorin sighed and stepped through the door of the coffee shop, the bell overhead jingled, announcing his arrival. This would without a doubt but the most uncomfortable and potentially heartbreaking conversations he would ever have to have. Almost forty-six years old and now when everything seemed to be falling into place, life through a curveball at him. He’d found love in the most unexpected of places and he had a child on the way, only he had always thought the two would happen with the same person. He never thought he would have to deal with them separately.   
“There you are!” a cheery voice called to his left, “I was beginning to think you weren’t coming!” There was that sweet smile he loved so much. His heart already felt like it was breaking but he needed to see this through.   
“Bilbo, there’s something I need to tell you.”


	26. Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More unplanned smut at the beginning. I swear, these two just do what they want.

Thranduil sighed and a lazy grin spread across his face as he felt the warmth that surrounded his cock. Last night, for the first time, he had handed almost complete control over to Wednesday and she had run with it, telling him what he could and couldn’t do. When and where he could touch her, or himself. And it had been incredible. That first session had led to another and then another, each one punctuated by a couple of hours of sleep. And now, it seemed she had slipped back into her usual, more submissive role in their bedroom. She had gently begun to rouse him by taking his half-hard cock in her mouth. It had taken mere moments for his blood to rush to it, making him rock hard all over again. He looked down and watched her head bob up and down steadily, one of her hands holding him at the base. She was making little satisfied noises that told him she was enjoying this as much as he was. Her tongue swirling over the sensitive head of his manhood, making him throb. One of his hands covered hers, slowing her down and showing her how to squeeze and pump him the right way.   
“I’m going to cum in your mouth,” he told her, “You’re going to swallow it all, okay?”   
“Mmmhmm,” she agreed, making him twitch between her lips.   
“You’re so fucking sexy,” he muttered, his free hand twisting into her hair, holding it back as she started moving again. His hand remained closed over hers, rubbing his shaft the way he liked it.   
“That’s it,” he whispered encouragingly as he leaned his head back once more, “Just like that, baby.”

 

Tossing her hair over her shoulder, he reached down and slipped his hand between her thighs. He groaned, she was soaking wet, soft, swollen and hot. He could feel the familiar muscle tightenings that preceded his release. He slid two fingers into her with ease, making her cry out and tense up.   
“Don’t stop,” he warned her. She immediately put her mouth back on him, whimpering loudly as he began to move his hand. He found her sweet spot, making her legs tremble.   
“That’s it,” he said softly, “Almost there.” He could feel her tightening around his digits as her attentions on his cock sped up.   
“Oh, that’s it, baby,” he said, his voice laced with need, “That’s it. I’m going to cum.” He guided her hand in a few more gentle strokes before he felt the pulsing sensation run down his spine and into his cock. Her lips tightened around him and he watched her delicate throat move as she swallowed every last drop. He groaned in relief as she licked him clean. He had wanted to do that for months, and now that he had, it felt like heaven. He pressed his thumb to her clit, drawing a few small circles and sending her over the edge. Her cries were muffled by the flesh she still held in her mouth.   
“Come here,” he said as she pulled her head back. She crawled up to him, her arms and legs trembling. He guided her to lay on his chest, her fingers clutching at his skin. She looked so beautiful, still trembling and weak from their passions. He lifted the hand that had touched between her legs, her juices still glistening on his fingers. Obediently, she opened her mouth and licked his fingers clean. He grinned again.   
“My queen,” he said softly. She leaned in and kissed him, their tongues mingling. He could taste the familiar flavour of her cunt, mixed with something else, himself. His arms wrapped around her, cradling her against his body   
“I love you,” she whispered as he leaned in to kiss her again.   
“I love you too,” he replied, “Now, sleep.” He kissed her once more before leaning back against the pillows, holding her.

 

She fell asleep in his arms soon after, if she was dreaming, they were peaceful. But sleep eluded him. It wasn’t her weight on his chest that kept him awake, it was his mind racing. The sex had always been amazing for them, but last night had taken it to a whole other level. He’d never been one to relinquish control in the bedroom before, but when he had allowed her to take the reins, he’d experienced pleasure like never before. The only time he had cum so hard before was the night they got engaged and he’d fulfilled his fantasy of bending her over the desk. He looked down at her. Dark purple love bites littered her neck just like they did his, another little fantasy of his, to mark each other visibly. He had plenty of others too. He wanted to close his fingers over her pretty little neck whilst he fucked her. He wanted to turn her pale rear into a pretty shade of pink using his hand and hear her cry out. He wanted her to ride him in his chair at the office in the middle of the day, no matter if any of his subordinates walked past. He wanted to take her out for a night on the town and then fuck her in the elevator or on the stairs because he couldn’t wait any longer. 

 

He wanted the day he could throw her birth control in the trash to come sooner, so he could spend all night making love to her. 

 

Not fucking, making love. He wanted to watch her toned belly swell from his seed, for them to bring new life into their world. He groaned and rubbed his eyes with one hand, and reminded himself why throwing the plan out the window was a bad idea. If she was pregnant, she wouldn’t be able to work, and then they would be struggling, even without the additional costs of having a child. He could still remember going to bed with an empty stomach most nights just so Legolas was happy and fed in the early years. And they were doing this for the right reason; to save Lake Dale, before all the young people left and it became a community of the elderly, desperately clinging to a way of life that was dying.

 

Wednesday stretched in her sleep before curling back into him, practically purring in contentment and tilting her head back, exposing her neck to him. He ran one hand down it and she sighed in her sleep. Oh fuck, he was going to end up waking her by driving between her legs if she kept that up. Mercifully, his phone on the nightstand began to vibrate, drawing his attention away from her. He reached over and grabbed it.   
“Hello?” he answered in a low voice so as not to wake the woman in his arms.   
“Thranduil, it’s Thorin, sorry if I woke you,” Thorin’s deep voice sounded on the other end, “I take it Wednesday’s still asleep.” Thranduil pulled the phone away to look at the time, 6.45am.   
“Yes, she is,” he replied after putting the phone back to his ear, “What is it?”   
“I need a favour,” Thorin replied, “I’m at the police station on the corner of twenty-sixth and oak. I….I need you to come bail me out.”   
“What?”   
“Dís is still at Lake Dale, as is Frerin. There’s no one else in the city,” Thorin explained, “Can you come get me or not?”   
“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Thranduil sighed, “Just hold on.” He hung up the phone and looked down at Wednesday. She was looking up at him, half-asleep still.   
“Go back to sleep,” he said softly, “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Her eyes closed and she was instantly asleep again. He quickly slid out from under her and lowered her into the warm patch of the mattress where he had been lying. She snuggled down into it as he pulled the covers over her before heading to the closet to dress.

 

*

 

Half an hour later, he walked into the police station and went straight up to the desk.   
“Yeah?” said the officer behind the desk.   
“Thranduil Elfking, here to bail out Thorin Durinson,” Thranduil explained, wishing he’d grabbed a cup of coffee before coming here.   
“Bail’s set at two thousand,” the officer said.   
“What?! What was he charged with?” Thranduil asked. The officer flicked through his paperwork.   
“He was charged with drunk and disorderly, and resisting arrest,” he answered. Thranduil groaned.   
“Fine,” he said, reaching in to pull out his wallet. Luckily for Thorin, Project Orcrist hadn’t taken all of his cash reserves just yet.   
“Thank you, sir,” said the officer behind the desk, “Smith, you can let Durinson out, his bail is being paid.” Another police officer got up and headed into the back, returning ten minutes later with a rather sheepish looking Thorin who held a brown paper bag, no doubt his personal items.   
“Two thousand dollars and an early morning phone call,” Thranduil muttered at Thorin as they finished the last of the paperwork, “I always thought it would be Legolas I got the first please-bail-me-out call from, not a man two years my senior who I’m going into business with.”   
“Nice hickey by the way,” Thorin said, pointing at the purple bruise in the crook of Thranduil’s neck. Thranduil glared at him, wishing he’d left him to rot in the cell for a while.   
“What the hell did you even do last night?” he asked, turning and heading for the door, Thorin close behind him, “I thought you were going to tell this mystery lover about the whole Gloria situation.”   
“I did,” Thorin said.   
“And what did they say? Yes or no?”   
“Neither, said they needed to think about it,” Thorin grumbled as they headed down the steps towards the car, “My nerves got the better of me and I went for a drink to steady them. One drink turned into two, which turned into three, and well, you know what happened. I got drunk, got belligerent and got arrested for it.”   
“Have you sobered up?”   
“Just enough for them to allow me to call someone,” Thorin said, “Did I wake Wednesday?” Thranduil paused in opening his car door and looked at the other man whose gaze had returned to the love bite on Thranduil’s neck.   
“If you had woken her, you would still be sat in that cell,” he said firmly, “Now, get in, we’re going for coffee. I’m not taking you home if you’re still drunk.”

 

He pulled up a few doors down from Bag End and noticed the visible irritation in his passenger.   
“What’s wrong?” he asked.   
“Nothing,” Thorin answered rather too quickly and moving to get out of the car. Thranduil quickly followed him.   
“Thorin!” he called after the dark haired man, “Wait. We can go somewhere else.”   
“No, it’s fine,” Thorin huffed. Thranduil ran one hand through his hair. Had he missed something? He could have sworn Thorin and Bilbo got along. He followed Thorin into the little coffee shop, noticing how Thorin quickly headed for a table as far from the counter as possible. He shook his head and headed to the counter. Bilbo appeared, lacking his usual cheery expression though he did manage to muster a smile when he saw Thranduil.   
“Good morning, Mr Elfking,” he said, “An americano and a latte?”   
“No, two americanos today please,” Thranduil replied.   
“Oh, is Wednesday not with you today?” Bilbo asked, peering round a rack of indie CDs. He spotted Thorin, attempting to hide in the corner. Thorin’s gaze instantly dropped to the ground and Bilbo’s smile fell.   
“No, I’ve just had to go pick him up from the police station,” Thranduil tried to sound casual but he was feeling off guard with their behaviour. He was sure Thorin had introduced Bilbo as a friend.   
“Police station?” asked Bilbo as he began to move around to pour their drinks.   
“Yeah, he got a little drunk and a little rowdy last night,” Thranduil continued, raising his voice a little to be heard over the espresso machine, “Then apparently started mouthing off at the police officer who told him to go home. He spent the night in the cells and now owes me two thousand dollars.”   
“Oh,” said Bilbo, setting the two coffees on a tray for them.   
“Are you alright?” Thranduil asked, “Both of you are acting a little weird.”   
“It’s fine,” Thorin spoke, still not looking up, “Just leave it.”   
“No, it is not fine, Thorin,” Bilbo snapped, slamming his hand on the counter, “You turn up here last night and you tell me you’ve gotten some woman pregnant, how was I supposed to react?!”    
“Stop it, Bilbo,” Thorin warned.   
“No, I will not,” Bilbo said, “It’s like you’re ashamed when there’s nothing to be ashamed of.”   
“I’m not ashamed,” Thorin growled through gritted teeth.   
“So why have you not told anyone about us?” Bilbo said as he hurried from behind the counter and towards Thorin, “You’ve not told your family, you’ve clearly not told your friends by the look on Thranduil’s face.”   
“Have I missed something?” Thranduil asked, looking between the two before it clicked.   
“Wait a minute,” he said, “Is Bilbo the person you told Gloria you’ve been seeing?” Silence stretched out between the three of them before Thorin finally spoke.   
“Yes,” he said, his voice shaking, “And I told him last night about Gloria being pregnant.” Bilbo turned away from him.   
“I….I can’t be involved with you if there’s any possibility of there being a relationship between you and her,” he said, his voice shaking, “I can’t get in the way of you being a family.”   
“Is that what Gloria said?” Thranduil asked, looking at Thorin, “That she wants a relationship with you.”    
“No, she never even mentioned it,” he answered. Thranduil sighed and wondered where he found such stubborn friends.   
“Do you want a relationship with Gloria, beyond being the father of her child?” he asked Thorin. Thorin looked thoughtful for a moment.   
“No,” he said finally, “I want to be involved with her as far as our child is concerned. But I don’t want a romantic relationship with her.” Bilbo turned back around.   
“You don’t?” he said, “But I thought because she was having your baby….” Thranduil resisted the urge to throw his hands up in the air in frustration.   
“I don’t love her though!” Thorin snapped, “I…..” He stopped short of declaring something out loud.   
“You know how I feel about you, Bilbo, I told you,” he said calmly, “That hasn’t changed because of something that happened before we...we….”   
“It’s fine, I know what you’re thinking,” Bilbo stopped him and moved to stand in front of him, “You great lummox. Why didn’t you tell me that?” Thorin reached up and took one of Bilbo’s hands in his own.   
“Because this whole baby thing has my head turned around,” Thorin admitted, “I don’t know the slightest thing about babies.”   
“The first year is easy,” Thranduil said, heading back to the counter and grabbing their coffees, “You clean them, you feed them and you try not to drop them on their heads.” He set one down in front of Thorin.   
“Though, if your child is anything like you, it will have the hardest head known to mankind,” he continued, “My thoughts are with Gloria’s vagina having to push that out.”   
“You know, I know a few things about babies,” Bilbo said, “My cousin, Primula, she has the sweetest little boy, Frodo. I was living with them when he was born, I helped out with diaper changes and night feedings.”   
“You did?” Thorin said. Bilbo sank into the seat next to Thorin.   
“Yes,” he replied, “You know what? I’d like to meet Gloria.”   
“Really?” Thorin’s face lit up.   
“Yes, I….I want to be involved,” Bilbo grinned. 

 

Thorin’s grin matched and Thranduil made a point of looking away and admiring the cake stand for a few minutes. When he turned back, Thorin’s forehead was resting against Bilbo’s.   
“You know, we could have a dinner party at my place,” he offered, “Neutral territory and you’ll have Wednesday and I there for support.”   
“That sounds like a great idea,” Thorin said, “Perhaps I could invite my brother and sister along, and my nephews. If that’s alright with you.”   
“Let’s get the whole family involved and get Tauriel there with Holly too,” Thranduil said, seating himself at the table with them. Thorin and Bilbo grinned again. Thranduil’s phone began to ring. He looked down and saw Wednesday’s name on the screen. He tapped the answer button.   
“Ah my queen, you are not going to believe what I have to tell you,” he said.


	27. Magic Number

Wednesday ran her hand through her hair as she double checked her appearance in the vanity mirror. It was supposed to be a relaxed, informal dinner but her stomach was doing flip-flops. Should she wear the nice crystal earrings her father had bought her for her eighteenth birthday or would they be too much? Should she wear flats or heels? Had she actually turned the stove on or was dinner currently sitting there, stone cold and raw? She snorted. She was more nervous about this dinner than she had ever been swinging around a pole with her tatas out. Maybe it was because now, everything she did reflected on Thranduil too. When she had been working the poles, she was ‘Lily’, no one cared who she actually was. She was just a piece of scantily-clad flesh. But today, she was Wednesday, actual person, Thranduil’s fiancee and a hostess for what had to be the bizarrest meet-the-family dinners in history. Thorin was bringing his boyfriend and his baby mama to the same dinner.

 

A knock at the door brought her back to reality.  
“Wednesday? Are you in here?” Legolas’ voice came through the closed door. She quickly glanced around, making sure no wayward articles of underwear were hanging in view. Thranduil had a tendency to throw them and she was never sure if she managed to retrieve them all. In fact she was certain at least three pairs currently resided under the bed. There were none in sight today though.   
“Yes,” she called, “Come in.” Legolas came in, still wearing his work suit and rather bright pink flush on his face.   
“Did you only just get here?” she asked, looking him up and down, “They’ll be here soon.”   
“Yeah, I got…..held up,” he said, looking rather sheepish, “I need your help with something.”   
“With what?” she asked, silently a little thrilled that Legolas felt he could come to her for stuff instead of his Dad. Legolas popped open the top few buttons of his shirt and pulled the collar to one side to show a rather large, bruised and raw looking bite mark.   
“Oh my god!” Wednesday exclaimed prompting Legolas to shush her.   
“Sorry,” she whispered, “Is that why you’re so late?” Legolas nodded.   
“It bled a little,” he said, “Have you got anything to clean it?”   
“One second,” Wednesday said, heading over to her bedside table. She opened the middle drawer and pulled out a small first aid kit. She’d accidentally scratched Thranduil’s back badly one night and drawn blood. Since then, she’d had the kit in her drawer just so she could clean up any other injuries that might happen. She found an alcohol wipe and some antiseptic cream and headed over to Legolas. He hissed a little as she cleaned it and then applied the cream.   
“So are we going to meet this person?” she asked.   
“No way!” said Legolas, “Trust me, if Dad found out about this, he’d hit the roof.” Wednesday quirked one eyebrow.   
“He wouldn’t approve of them,” Legolas explained, “I….please don’t make me go into it.”   
“Fine, I won’t,” she said, “But, if you two are going to play rough, do it responsibly. Are you being safe? Have you both been checked?”   
“Yes, and yes,” Legolas said, rolling his eyes, “It’s just tonight is the first time in a few weeks we’ve been able to see each other and well, we got a little carried away.”   
“Might I suggest safe words?” she joked.   
“Might be an idea because apparently, ow that hurt, doesn’t work,” Legolas laughed.   
“Go on, go get changed,” Wednesday said, slapping him on the arm, “Not a white shirt though. That bruise is going to take a while to heal.”   
“Ok, thanks Wednesday,” he said as he left.

 

Wednesday looked to the side and caught sight of herself in the full length mirror on the closet. Now she could see it, her outfit did seem relaxed enough. Her hair had been curled the day before for dress rehearsal and had relaxed into loose waves and she had minimal makeup on. She just needed a bright lip colour and she decided she would be set for the rest of the evening.

 

She could hear Thranduil in the kitchen as she trotted downstairs. The murmur of voices she could hear as she descended told her some of their guests had already arrived.  She found Dís, Fili, Kili and Frerin sat on Thranduil’s large couch, talking. Frerin, catching Wednesday’s gaze, lifted his glass in a silent gesture to her before turning back to his sister and nephews. Although he had accidentally crashed her and Thranduil’s engagement party with another Durinson cousin, Nori, he had kept to himself for the remainder of her time in Lake Dale so Wednesday didn’t really know much about him save that he was the middle child of that particular branch of Durinsons. He didn’t look his age, he looked almost ten years younger and his hair was dark brown unlike the almost jet black hair sported by Thorin and their sister. He did have the same bone structure as his siblings though, and kept his beard cropped short, like his older brother. His long hair was kept tied back in a man-bun at the base of his neck. Wednesday briefly wondered if Thranduil could pull off a man-bun but quickly decided that it wouldn’t suit him. She preferred his regrown platinum blond hair to hang loose and flow in the breeze. She suppressed a chuckle as Dís clipped Fili’s ear for suggesting a rather probing question for his uncle regarding his new relationships. Fili turned red and rubbed his sore ear as his mother scolded him. He may be the future of Oakenshield Software but he was still her son.

 

Wednesday headed into the kitchen where she found Thranduil stirring part of dinner whilst Tauriel spoke to him in a low voice whilst gently rocking her sleeping daughter.  
“I still don’t know why you’re telling me all this,” Thranduil replied when she had finished, “It’s your fiance you should be talking to about this.”   
“But…”   
“But nothing,” Thranduil said firmly, “If you have issues with Kili, you need to tell him. On behalf of the entire male gender, we are not psychic.”   
“I thought you would side with me,” Tauriel pouted.   
“I agree with you, things need to change, but you need to tell him as well,” Thranduil replied, “You’re in an adult relationship, I can’t swoop in and fix any problems for you. You’ve got to find a way to fix them yourself.” Tauriel sighed and turned on her heel, heading back out to the others.   
“What was all that about?” Wednesday asked. Thranduil sighed and grabbed a glass of wine from the counter.   
“A breakdown in communication,” he said, “She got used to me fixing all her problems as a child and now she wants me to fix her and Kili. That’s just not something I’m willing to do for her. Not because I dislike the boy, he’s a good man, and a good father to Holly. She just needs to learn to stand on her own two feet.”   
“What’s wrong with them?”   
“Short version, they had a baby and now their relationship has changed,” Thranduil said, “Except they won’t talk to each other about it, and now they’re no longer on the same page.”   
“I can see how that could happen,” Wednesday said, “It can’t be easy to go from that teenage puppy-love to an adult relationship where another life depends on you.”   
“I can tell you from experience it’s not,” Thranduil said, “But all it takes is a bit of communication to fix it.” Wednesday moved close to him and wound her arms around his neck as he slid one hand around her waist.   
“Any bugs in our relationship you would like to report?” he asked, a smile returning to his face.   
“No,” she answered, leaning into him.   
“Good,” he said, “Now, have you seen that son of mine?”   
“He got home about ten minutes ago, he’s just changing,” Wednesday said, “He got a little held up after work.”   
“Are you to expand on that?”   
“No.”   
“Curse you and your secrets, woman,” he joked. A buzzer sounded.   
“That’ll be the happy….triple?” Wednesday suggested, prompting Thranduil to laugh.   
“Go let them in, dinner will be ready in fifteen,” he said.

 

Wednesday headed to go let Thorin and the others into the building. She spotted a distinctly pissed-off looking Tauriel talking to Legolas, who was wearing a dark shirt to hide the bruise he had shown her. Holly was being held by Frerin, looking up at him with fascination as he talked gently to her. He seemed to have a natural affinity with the infant who was beginning to show the first signs of a real smile, not just gas. Fili was talking with his mother, and by the shade of pink his ear had taken, he’d made a few more remarks she was not happy with. Kili however sat alone, staring at his drink, occasionally glancing up at Tauriel. Wednesday felt bad as she pressed the button to allow the new arrivals in. She wanted to help but knew that this was a situation where she should take Thranduil’s lead. If he said no to interfering, she should respect that. No matter how glum Kili looked.

 

A few minutes later, she was opening the door to the final guests to arrive. Thorin, complete with new boyfriend and the mother of his unborn child. Gloria squealed with excitement to see Wednesday, rushing forward to hug her. Gloria hadn’t been into work for a week since the news broke. Thranduil appeared at Wednesday’s side, shaking Thorin’s hand and gratefully accepting the bottle of wine and box of truffles Bilbo had bought.  
“A late engagement present,” Bilbo said, “This stupid man didn’t think to tell me that you two were engaged until yesterday.” He gestured to Thorin who just shrugged in response. Thranduil, ever the perfect host, welcomed them into his home, offering refreshments and to take any jackets. Thorin led Bilbo into the living room to introduce him whilst Gloria hung back with Wednesday.   
“Well?” Wednesday asked, “How did meeting Bilbo go?”   
“Oh, he’s so sweet,” Gloria said, pressing her hand to her heart, “He’s been telling me all about his little nephew, Frodo, and that he’s discreetly asked his cousin if she still has any of Frodo’s old baby clothes for me. Because, apparently, you can never have enough in the early stages. He’s so nice, and so happy for me.”   
“And what about Thorin?”   
“Thorin, is well, Thorin,” Gloria said, “He stands there stoically and watches. But when Bilbo and I were talking in the car on the way here, I swear I saw him smile.”   
“It makes sense,” Wednesday said, “You are the mother of his child, Bilbo is the one he loves. If you two get along, it makes his life a lot easier and happier.”   
“I think Bilbo and I are going to be great friends, especially if he keeps bringing me those truffles,” Gloria replied, “Those things are amazing.” The two headed into the living room where Bilbo was shaking hands with Frerin and cooing over Holly.   
“And this,” Thorin said, gesturing towards them, “Is Gloria.” Gloria stepped away from Wednesday and moved to stand next to Thorin.   
“Gloria, this is my family,” he said, “I know you all briefly met before but...my sister Dís, my brother Frerin, my nephews Fili and Kili, Kili’s fiance Tauriel, and their daughter, Holly. I trust you already know the Elfkings.” Gloria gave a nervous wave, prompting Dís to approach her with open arms.   
“Well, it’s about time,” she said, “I’ve been worrying about my brother being alone for years and then I find he’s got two special people in his life! Welcome to the family, both of you.” Gloria smiled, Bilbo did too as Frerin handed over Holly. Wednesday smiled. It was an awkward situation to say the least, not one anyone would ever expect to find themselves in. But the only tension in the room was coming from Kili and Tauriel, and everyone seemed to be adopting Thranduil’s approach of leaving it alone.

 

*

 

Eleven empty plates sat on the table, and eleven very full and satisfied bellies sat around it.  
“Oh my god, that was incredible,” Gloria mused as she rubbed her stuffed stomach, “Wednesday, marry him quick.” Wednesday chuckled as she looked down to the far end of the table where Thranduil was sat, a smug grin on his face and a glass of wine in his hand. Almost everyone seemed relaxed and sated after another amazing meal courtesy of Thranduil Elfking.   
“My own personal Gordan Ramsey,” she said, “Only with better hair and less wrinkles.”   
“You flatter me, my love,” Thranduil replied.   
“Can I come live with you?” Fili asked, prompting laughter from around the table. Thranduil and Legolas slowly rose to their feet to begin clearing the table.   
“So, Gloria,” Dís said, restarting the conversation that had died down mostly whilst they were eating, “When is your first appointment with Oín?” Wednesday had gathered that Oín was another Durinson cousin, who happened to be Thorin’s private doctor too.   
“Tomorrow, ten a.m,” Gloria said, smiling, “We may even be having a first ultrasound scan.”   
“Tomorrow?” Dís said.   
“Oh crap,” Thorin said, “I forgot.”   
“Why? What’s happening tomorrow?” Thranduil asked, returning from the kitchen.   
“We have a clash. Gloria’s first prenatal appointment and the latest hearing for Dís’ divorce,” Thorin answered, “Dís, I’m sure you’ll be fine to go on your own.”   
“If you need a little emotional support, I can come with you,” Wednesday said. Dís looked at her silently for a moment.   
“Thank you,” the older woman said, “Though, I need it more for Fili and Kili than myself.”   
“It’s no problem,” Thranduil said, “We’ll both be there.”   
“I can watch Holly if you want to go, Tauriel,” Legolas said. Tauriel looked over at him, smiling.   
“Thanks bro,” she grinned. He grinned back.   
“That’s very generous of you,” Thorin said, “I’ve been to every single one of these hearings. I’m sorry Dís.”   
“Don’t be,” Dís said, waving a hand, “You’ve got more important things to worry about than a hearing that will probably just result in another three years of dragging it out.”   
“It’ll all work out one day, Mom,” Fili said, no humour in his voice for once. Kili reached over and put one hand over his mother’s.   
“Thank you, boys,” she said and the whole table was silent for a moment.   


“So,” Fili said, humour returning to his voice, “Now that that’s settled. It’s time to ask the really important questions. Like, how the hell did uncle Thorin go forty-five years before sleeping with a woman?”  
“You think Gloria is the first woman I’ve slept with?” Thorin retorted, looking a little offended by his nephew implying he was socially inept in some way, “I’ll have you know she’s the…...hang on a moment…..” He went silent for a moment as he seemed to count in his head.   
“Fifth,” he said.   
“Since when?” Dís asked incredulous, “When did you find time to sleep with five different women?”   
“Well, two were in high school,” Thorin said.   
“Alright then,” Frerin spoke for the first time that night, “Who are these mystery women?”   
“Anna Stone in tenth grade,” Thorin said, counting on his fingers, “Ellie Bowman in twelfth.”   
“Ellie who?” asked Frerin   
“Ellie Lakeman,” Thorin said.   
“What, Bard’s wife?” Legolas asked.   
“This was before she even knew Bard existed,” Thorin said, “Let’s see, there was that intern, what was her name? Sally something…”   
“Sally Moor?” Thranduil suggested, “The woman who interned with us at Erebor Holdings?”   
“That’s her,” said Thorin, “And er...Rebecca Flank, a couple of years ago.”   
“Wow, Uncle,” Fili said sarcastically, “I’ve slept with more women this year than you have your entire life.”   
“Quality, not quantity,” Thorin said, “I remember everything about those women, and have maintained their friendship over the years. Anna is researching the mating habits of penguins in captivity versus the wild; Sally is still at Erebor  Holdings, she married the CEO’s son, and has three sons and a daughter and Rebecca owns her own computer repair shop in upstate New York, I give her a good rate on Arkenstone for her customers. Go on then Fili, tell me something meaningful about your latest conquest, or at least her name.” Fili flushed a little red and said nothing.

 

Wednesday found herself with a little more insight into how Thorin’s mind worked. He was a complex man, with an even more complex moral code, but she was starting to see a new lighter side to him. And judging by the look on Thranduil’s face, he was seeing it for the first time too. Fili meanwhile mumbled something and stared at his drink.  
“Thorin, I’m surprised you’re talking about these encounters so candidly,” Wednesday said, “You always seem so concerned with public image.”   
“So long as relationships are kept personal and private, I have no issue with them,” Thorin said, “Oakenshield Software is the largest software company outside of Silicon Valley, as such, our competitors will do anything to disrepute us, make the public less willing to put their faith in us, and I will not risk the financial safety of our entire family on a reckless whim.”   
“I can understand that,” Wednesday said, “So how are you going to explain your current situation?”   
“With the truth. There is only scandal when you try to conceal something. Careful curation of our family’s image means we can weather this particular storm,” Thorin answered, “Now, we’ve discussed my magic number. Come on, Thranduil, let’s hear yours.”

 

It was a gauntlet being thrown down, a challenge on Thranduil’s masculinity. A throwback to their old rivalry, a primal declaration of ‘here’s how many women I have had, how many have you’. Thranduil looked into his wine glass for a moment before looking back up.  
“Six,” he said. Wednesday leaned forward, this was something they’d never discussed but she was interested.   
“Oh, now this I have to hear,” Thorin said.   
“First one was Ellie Bowman, tenth grade,” he said, “Then there was Laurina. Let’s see who else…” Wednesday glanced at Dís; would Thranduil actually mention their little dalliance?   
“I believe it was me next,” Dís spoke up.   
“What?!” chorused around the table, prompting laughter from Tauriel and Frerin. Legolas meanwhile lowered his head into his hands and turned bright red. Bilbo chuckled.   
“When did that happen?” Thorin spluttered.   
“It happened once, we were very drunk and not my finest work,” Thranduil laughed, prompting disgusted groans from Legolas, Fili and Kili, “May I suggest you all avoid the booth in Bofur’s closest to the bathrooms.”   
“Awww man, I liked that table,” Frerin winced.   
“I can’t believe I never knew,” Thorin said, looking shocked.   
“Like you said, personal and private, brother,” Dís said, “Wednesday, does Thranduil still pull that odd face when he finishes?”   
“Like he’s in a lot of pain? Yeah,” Wednesday laughed.   
“I’m going to do the dishes,” Legolas said, quickly pushing away from the table.   
“I’m coming with you,” Fili said, quickly following him.   
“Alright, so after Dís, who was next?” Wednesday asked, “I’m intrigued.”   
“Let’s see, it would have been about ten years ago, Nina O’Malley,” Thranduil said, “She was a temp in the office.”   
“So what happened there?” Gloria asked.   
“We did it on the photocopier during the office Christmas party,” Thranduil said, “To this day, one of the scans of my backside is still pinned to the noticeboard above it with the words ‘Is this your ass?’ written on it.” Wednesday burst out laughing, tears streaming down her face at the image of Thranduil fucking someone on a photocopier, not to mention a picture of his ass pinned to a noticeboard for all to see. It was comforting to see almost everyone else around the table was in a similar state to her.  
“Oh, Nina, she had incredible….assets,” Thranduil said with mock wistfulness, prompting more sniggering around the table, “And after her, about three years ago, it was Melanie something-beginning-with-a-H. We met at a conference, bonded over a mutual enjoyment of good wine and our work, one night and that was that.”   
“And yet I knew nothing about any of these,” Thorin said, “I made it a point to keep tabs on you.”   
“I know you did,” Thranduil said, “These encounters were all private and personal, like you said.”   
“Except for Nina,” Wednesday pointed out, “I’m going to need to see this scan of your ass.”   
Thranduil laughed.   
“That can be arranged,” he grinned.


	28. Are We Going To Be Okay?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a short little chapter that was dying to get out, and I felt that adding it onto the beginning or end of another one, wouldn't do it justice.

An unseasonal rain storm descended on the city as Kili and Tauriel left that night. And Kili was glad, because without the squeak of the wipers on the windscreen, the car would have been completely silent on the journey home.    
“It was nice of my mother to offer to take Holly for the night,” he said when he couldn’t take the silence anymore.   
“Mmmhmm,” Tauriel answered.   
“What’s wrong?” he asked.   
“Nothing,” she replied.   
“C’mon now, Taur,” he said, “You can tell me. Something’s been bugging you all night.” He was lying of course, he knew damn well this had been brewing for weeks.   
“It’s just sitting there with your whole family tonight, I realised that you’re the only one not going somewhere,” she said, “And neither am I.”   
“How do you mean?” Kili asked, caught a little off by the statement.   
“Your uncle Thorin runs his own company, same as my Dad,” she continued, “Your brother is being groomed to take over. Your uncle Frerin has travelled the world. And you’re still doing the same odd jobs for Dwalin that you were doing six years ago.” Kili’s chest hurt at that.   
“You never show passion for anything,” she said, “I tried to talk to you two weeks ago about going to your uncle about their plans for the beach houses, and the fact that they’re going to be ripping up half the shore line behind those houses. But you said don’t worry about it. What they’re planning is going to massively increase Lake Dale’s carbon footprint, I mean, Dwalin’s deliveries alone have doubled since they started this project, never mind the effect on plant and wildlife. Your uncle Frerin agrees with me, and he thinks I should confront Thorin about it, rather than just stand by.”   
“Frerin is not exactly an ideal role model,” Kili protested.   
“Well, at least he listened to me,” she snapped, “Which is more than you do! Everything you do is all about Holly, you never think about me.”

 

Kili abruptly pulled the car over and killed the engine before slamming his hand against the wheel.   
“You are all I ever think about!” he snapped, “You! You say I have no ambition, no desires when I have achieved everything I ever wanted. You are the only thing I have ever wanted, ever since I was seventeen and I saw you walking through the woods with your shoes in your hand. Do you remember? The day of Oropher’s funeral and you were walking home alone? You were the most beautiful thing I ever saw, and I knew I would do anything to be with you. So I pursued you, and you gave yourself to me.” He sat there for a moment, breathing heavily as he stared at the woman next to him.   
“You are all I ever wanted, and I have you, and Holly now,” he said after a moment, “I don’t have lofty ambitions like my uncle, all I wanted was a family of my own.” He reached over towards the glove compartment. Tauriel flinched slightly and he hated it. He didn’t mean to scare her. He opened the compartment and pulled out a large envelope. He dropped it onto her lap.   
“Open it,” he said. Tauriel looked down but didn’t move.   
“Open it,” he repeated, “And then tell me, I never think about you.” 

 

She grabbed the envelope and opened it. She pulled out a stack of papers and read the first one.   
“What is this?” she asked after a moment.   
“What does it look like?”   
“It looks like an invitation to an interview for college,” she said.   
“That’s because it is,” Kili admitted, “I asked my uncle Thorin for a favour and I sent your high school transcripts and all those articles you wrote in California to the local college. That interview is just a formality to secure a place on the environmental management course starting next fall. Look at the next one.” Tauriel flipped the top page behind the others and resumed reading.   
“They’re also offering for me to serve as Environmental Consultant for Project Orcrist in the meantime,” she said after a moment, “Wait, why next year?”   
“Because I’m going to be doing a hospitality management course three nights a week at a community college,” Kili said softly, “My uncle wants me to run the lake houses next summer. So I need you home to look after Holly.”   
“Kili….” she started.   
“You’re not getting a birthday present now, that was going to be it,” he cut her off as he started the engine back up.

 

*

 

That night, Tauriel stared at the course prospectus in front of her. How had Kili managed to organise all this without her noticing?

 

_ Because you were too busy being mad at him for not having ambition…. _

 

Regret boiled in her stomach. All it would have taken, was a simple conversation when she first started feeling resentment, and they could have talked it out. Instead she had stayed silent and allowed the feeling to grow and evolve. How did she deserve someone as sweet as Kili. She glanced over her shoulder at the closed bedroom door. He’d gone to bed almost as soon as they had gotten in. She’d stayed up to read through the rest of what had been in the envelope. It was incredible what he had done for her. And what had she done? Accused him of lacking any ambition and neglecting her. She rubbed her hands over her face. What would Thranduil say if he was here right now?   
‘Swallow your pride and apologise’. 

 

She stood up and headed to the bedroom. Kili lay in bed, facing away from the door but she could tell he was still awake. She crawled onto the bed and slid so she was pressed up against him, her head bowed to press against his neck and one arm over him. He stiffened at her touch.   
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. He relaxed a little and one of his hands covered hers, his thumb stroking her hand reassuringly.   
“Are we going to be okay?” she asked.   
“We’ll be fine,” he said softly.


	29. The Worm Returns

“You know it was very nice of you to offer to do this.”   
Wednesday glanced over at Thranduil  as she double-checking her mascara.   
“It seemed like Dís needed to know there was someone there for her,” she replied, “I know my parents divorce was tough on my Dad but, for it to go for twenty years. I can’t even imagine how hard it is.” Thranduil nodded and looked back up at the courthouse.   
“Hopefully the next time we’re here, it will be to get married,” he said softly, almost to himself, “Are you ready?”   
“For what? The hearing or to get married?”   
“Both, but first the hearing,” he said, smiling at some private thought.   
“Yeah, I’m ready,” she said, smiling back.

 

They got out of the car, spotting Fili, Kili and Tauriel walking over too. Kili looked uncomfortable, his hand clasping one of Tauriel’s tightly. Fili however looked ready to commit murder.   
“Here we go again,” he muttered as he passed them, heading towards the main doors. Thranduil watched him go before turning back to Tauriel.   
“Are you alright?” he asked. She nodded silently, offering a small smile.   
“He told me about the college course,” she said after a moment, “And the consultant job.” A wry smile spread across Thranduil’s face.   
“Now I wouldn’t know anything about that,” he joked. Tauriel’s hand released Kili’s hand and she stepped closer to Thranduil.   
“About the college fees…” Tauriel started.   
“The fund your parents put in place before they passed is still there,” Thranduil cut her off before putting one arm around her shoulders, “You don’t need to worry about it. It will cover the fees, and the salary from your consultancy role will help you with books, materials, everything else you need.” He started walking towards the doors of the courthouse, tilting his head towards her as he listened to what she was saying. Wednesday followed close behind with Kili next to her.   
“So Legolas has Holly then?” Wednesday said.   
“Yeah, he’s at my mom’s with her right now,” Kili said, “She loves her Uncle Legolas. She smiled properly for the first time this morning when she saw him.”   
“Really? Oh that’s so cute!” Wednesday gushed, “She recognises him?”   
“He video-calls most days so she knows his face and voice,” Kili explained as they started climbing the steps into the courthouse.   
“I should probably get Thranduil to do that,” she said as Kili held the door open for her, “So she can recognise him too.”   
“Tauriel would love that,” Kili said.   
“Hey, are you two okay?” Wednesday asked, “Last night, the two of you seemed a little…”   
“We’ll be fine,” Kili said, “It’s just a tough change, going from being teenagers in puppy love to two adults in a serious committed relationship with a baby. Our priorities have changed and we dropped the ball on talking to each other. There was a little resentment simmering under the surface and it came to a head last night on the way home.”   
“You had a fight?”   
“A disagreement,” Kili clarified, “We still slept in the same bed, we still gave each other a morning kiss despite having horrific breath. We’re okay, we’ll be fine.”   
“Thranduil told me not to interfere,” Wednesday admitted.   
“He’s right,” Kili replied, “We need to figure this out ourselves. That’s what my Mom told me too.”

“Kili!” Dís’ voice rang down the hall. She was stood with Thranduil and Tauriel outside one of the courtrooms. She seemed to have aged a few years over night and looked more than a little stressed. Thranduil had a reassuring hand on her shoulder but she didn’t seem to be taking any comfort from it. Kili rushed forward and hugged his mother.   
“Everything okay?” Wednesday asked.   
“I hate seeing him,” Dís replied, “After twenty years, it just gets worse.”   
“We know, Mom,” Fili said, “We don’t like the three-yearly visits with the sperm donor either.”   
“Fili!” Thranduil warned, “Not helping.”   
“It’s fine,” Dís said, “He’s right to be angry. We should go in.” Thranduil nodded and the group started filing in.

 

As they went in, Wednesday got her first look at the man who had caused so much hurt to his own family, who had sent a letter containing such vile lies and had Kili and Tauriel too scared to act against them. Zak Stonebridge. He was a large man with a brow that could almost be described as Neanderthal-like. It seemed like most of Fili and Kili’s features came from the Durinson side as the only thing Zak seemed to share with his sons was the blond colour of his hair, a perfect match with Fili’s. She watched Zak cast the briefest glance at his sons before sneering. She imagined how much it must wound his pride, to look at his own offspring and see the same facial features as the brother-in-law with whom he’d battled for control with. Dís sat next to her lawyer, who leaned in close to speak with her. Fili and Kili sat on the first row immediately behind her, Tauriel close by Kili’s side. Thranduil and Wednesday slid into the second row. Thranduil immediately leaned back, stretching his long arms along the back of the seats and crossing his legs. He looked relaxed and at the same time, like he owned the place, like his word was law. Like a King.   
“All rise for the case of Durinson vs Stonebridge, the honorable Judge Saruman White presiding,” a voice called. Everyone rose to their feet.   
“Interesting,” Thranduil muttered under his breath. Wednesday glanced at him.   
“Not the original judge on the paperwork,” he whispered.   
“Is that good or bad?” Wednesday asked as an older man with pure white hair and beard stepped out.   
“We’re about to find out,” he replied.   
  


“You may be seated,” the judge said and everyone sat down.   
“Your Honour, if I may….” Zak’s lawyer began to speak.   
“If you are wishing to familiarise me with the details of this case, you can be rest assured, I am more than prepared,” Saruman interrupted, “I have spent a good many hours this morning examining the notes of this farce.” Zak’s lawyer swallowed.   
“Your Honor?” he queried.   
“Mr Stonebridge,” Saruman addressed the blond man directly, “How you and your attorney have managed to draw this process out over twenty years, I have no idea, but having read everything regarding this case, I intend to bring it to a close today.”   
“Your Honor, my client just wants to make sure that everything is above board before he parts with any of his hard-earned money….”   
“Questioning the paternity of a grandchild is irrelevant!” Saruman snapped, “If Mr Stonebridge’s son has taken on responsibility for said child, then that is his choice and has no relevance on whether Mr Stonebridge should have provided for his now-grown children! Yes, Mr Stonebridge, I am aware of the letter you sent to your youngest son, though I doubt your attorney is.” Wednesday looked at Thranduil whose brow was furrowed. Dís and Fili looked confused as well.   
“As for visitation, you have forsaken any rights you may have had the moment you sent that letter,” Saruman continued, “I do not believe you have any genuine reason for drawing out your divorce, Mr Stonebridge, other than to cause emotional pain and distress to your wife and sons. All of the marital assets belonged to your wife before you were married, so they shall remain. You have no right to alimony as you accepted a job which paid more than adequately before you left the relationship, and you have retained it. Your sons are now adults, nulling the custody and visitation arguments. Therefore Mr Stonebridge, I am ordering you to pay Ms Durinson what you owe, with twenty years interest. You are also ordered to not contact them unless they contact you first. Case dismissed.” He banged his gavel and as quickly as he had entered, he left. Leaving the whole room in stunned silence except for Dís’ panting breaths as she battled between laughing and crying.   
“Wait, that’s it, it’s over?” Fili asked. Dís let out a strange noise, half-laugh, half-sob before clapping her hands over her mouth. 

 

On the other side of the courtroom, Zak looked furious. A bailiff had handed something to his attorney.   
“You sent this to them?!” the attorney spat, “You idiot, you brought this on yourself. Elfking has every right to sue you for this!” Wednesday watched as Zak glanced sideways towards them, making eye contact with Thranduil. Zak quickly looked away before slamming his fists on the table. He stood up and marched out the room, pulling his cellphone from his pocket as he went. His attorney followed him.   
“How did the judge know about the letter?” Wednesday asked. Thranduil shrugged.   
“I don’t know,” he replied.   
“What letter?” Fili asked. Dís had turned around to look at them.   
“We received a letter about a month ago, basically implying that Holly isn’t my daughter,” Kili said, “It suggested….otherwise, I don’t want to talk about it, but we got a DNA test done to prove she is, but we haven’t had the results back yet.”   
“Just sending that letter is considered threatening behaviour and intimidation,” Dís’ lawyer spoke up, “Regardless of whether any of it’s true, he’s contacted you with these accusations, not the police or any legal authority. His lawyer is right, he brought this on himself.”   
“Good,” Dís said, “It will hurt all the more for it. Let’s get out of here.”

 

Less than half an hour after entering the courtroom, they were all leaving again. Dís looked more like her usual self, Fili and Kili seemed to be taller, walking with their heads up. The huge dark cloud and weight that was Zak Stonebridge had been lifted from their shoulders.   
“You know what this means, right?” Fili said, “We can now finally change our last names to Durinson.” Kili grinned as his arm wrapped around Tauriel’s waist.   
“And when that money comes through, Fili, you can kiss your student debt goodbye,” Dís said, “And there will be enough to help pay for a nice big wedding too.” She turned and grinned at her future daughter-in-law.   
“I don’t want anything too fancy,” Tauriel said, “I was thinking a small one, just in Lake Dale with our family and a few friends.”   
“So long as you and Holly are there, I don’t care,” Kili said, kissing the side of Tauriel’s head.   
“Let’s go call your Uncle,” Dís said, “He’s going to be thrilled.”   
“I’m just going to go to the bathroom before we leave,” Wednesday said, “I’ll meet you all outside.”   
“Don’t take too long,” Thranduil said, “I think there’s a celebration in order.” Wednesday smiled, standing on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek before pulling away and following the signs to the bathroom.

 

*

 

Normally, an empty bathroom wouldn’t bother Wednesday. In fact, knowing no one could hear her made her feel more relaxed. But there was something about the silence surrounding her that made her feel nervous as she relieved herself. She unlocked the cubicle and opened the door. Only to be confronted by a familiar face.   
“Ms McQueen, we meet again,” Smaug almost purred as he loomed over her. Wednesday stumbled backwards, almost falling.   
“S….Smaug,” she stuttered.   
“It’s so nice to see you and Elfking are still getting along,” Smaug continued, a grin on his face that made Wednesday very nervous, “Ah! Is that a ring I see? Lucky devil, he is.” Wednesday swallowed, feeling nausea starting to swirl in her belly.   
“What are you doing here?” she asked, standing up straight and putting her hand into her pocket slowly. Her fingers clasped over her cellphone and as Smaug looked upwards to laugh, she swiftly pulled it out. A few swipes of her thumb and it was recording video.   
“Ah, I thought that would be obvious,” he said, licking his lips.   
Wednesday said nothing, following a gut instinct that Smaug was flexing some metaphorical muscles and revelling in it.   
“I have a message for Elfking,” Smaug continued, a perverse look on his face as he looked her up and down, “He should be careful whose toes he goes stepping on, especially if you both want to live long enough for him to put a baby in your belly.” Wednesday’s heart stopped for a moment and her hands shook a little.   
“Orcrist will fail, you may have my assurance on that,” Smaug finished, “And when it does, I will come and finish the job I started all those years ago, starting with your fiance.” 

 

Wednesday saw red for a moment, and with no plan whatsoever, she launched herself towards Smaug with a yell. Smaug stepped back, laughing, and as soon as she was out of the cubicle, two men grabbed hold of Wednesday, yanking her back by her arms. She cried out in pain, and her phone dropped to the floor, skittering back behind the toilet. Smaug let out a deep belly laugh.   
“Oh, how sweet love is, and what fools it makes of us,” he teased, “Deliver the message, or Azog and Bolg here will.” Wednesday looked from side to side quickly, trying to memorise the faces of the two men holding her. But before she could get a good look at either of them, they shoved her backwards into the cubicle. She fell to the floor, mercifully just avoiding hitting her head. Her survival instincts told her to stay down until she had heard all three of them leave. Once they were gone, she lifted herself up. She hurt where she had hit the floor and she was going to have more than a couple of bruises from this encounter. She retrieved her phone and slowly made her way to the bathroom door. Looking out, she could see no sign of Smaug or his cronies, and she headed for the main doors as quickly as possible. 

 

As she walked out towards the parking lot, she felt her hands start shaking, her breath catching in her chest. She felt tears drop from her eyes onto her cheeks. She felt weak. She needed to find Thranduil, fast. She spotted his platinum head in the distance and moved as quickly as she could, but already her hip and legs were hurting from her fall. She opened her mouth to call his name, but nothing came out except a small sob. Thranduil’s head turned and he saw her. His brow furrowed and he suddenly began running towards her. He wrapped his arms around her and she gladly leaned into him.   
“What happened? What’s wrong?” he asked. Wednesday still couldn’t find her voice so she found the video she had recorded on her phone and held it up for him.

_ I have a message for Elfking. He should be careful whose toes he goes stepping on, especially if you both want to live long enough for him to put a baby in your belly. Orcrist will fail, you may have my assurance on that. And when it does, I will come and finish the job I started all those years ago, starting with your fiance. _

Hearing Smaug’s voice come through her phone made Wednesday’s hands shake more. After watching the footage of Smaug’s henchmen throwing her to the floor, Thranduil’s hand closed over hers and locked the phone, stopping the video as Fili, Kili, Dís and Tauriel caught up to them.   
“It’s ok,” he whispered, wrapping her back in his arms once more, “You’re safe, I promised.” He pressed a kiss to her hair, before reaching into his pocket.   
“Fili, call your Uncle, tell him to get his security to check his home and his car before he goes near either one of them,” he said, “Tauriel, call Legolas, tell him not to go anywhere until his car has been checked. Dís, your home is the only place which is guaranteed to be safe right now, may we….”   
“Everyone can go there until we get the all clear,” she finished for him, “I’ll have someone come check all our cars before we leave here.”   
“Good,” said Thranduil, pulling out his cellphone and dialling a number.   
“Feren,” he said after a moment, “Vacations over, we have a code red. I need you to sweep the penthouse and the office for any signs of tampering. Smaug’s back.” Feren clearly understood what was required of him as Wednesday only heard his voice for a moment before he hung up.   
“What did that worm do now?” Fili asked.   
“He knows about Orcrist,” Thranduil replied.


	30. Never Without You

“Here, Wednesday, drink this.”

Wednesday looked up to see Dís offering her a cup of tea.   
“Thank you,” she said weakly, taking the cup. The front door of the brownstone townhouse slammed.   
“Dís!” Thorin’s voice boomed.   
“In here,” Dís called, rolling her eyes slightly. Moments later, Thorin strode into the sitting room, Gloria close behind him.   
“Oh, Wednesday!” Gloria said, rushing forward. She sat on the sofa next to her and threw her arms around her.   
“What happened?” Thorin demanded from his sister.   
“Smaug,” Dís said, “After the judge granted my divorce, Wednesday went to use the bathroom and he cornered her, threatened her, you, Thranduil. He knows about Orcrist, and then he had his goons man-handle Wednesday a little.” Thorin’s head turned to look at Wednesday as she sipped the strong, sweet tea that Dís had given her.   
“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice far softer than Wednesday had ever heard before.   
“I’m okay,” she replied, “Just a little shaken up.”   
“Are the police involved?” he asked. She nodded.   
“Yes, I’ve given a statement, and they took my phone into evidence,” she said, “I managed to record everything that happened.” She didn’t mention being taken into a room and stripped off in order to use a special photography technique to highlight the bruises forming on her arms. It had been humiliating.   
“Good,” Thorin said, “If we can get that snake tangled in legal proceedings, he can’t come near us.” He turned back to his sister.   
“What’s happening now?”   
“Fili has gone with security to sweep your house,” Dís explained, “Kili and Legolas are tackling his and Tauriel’s apartment. Thranduil’s security are doing his.”   
“Did anyone check here?”   
“No need,” Dís said, “Legolas was here the whole time. He did a sweep as soon as he got the call but no one came in or out whilst he was here.”   
“Good,” Thorin said, “Perhaps Thranduil….”   
“Have we heard from him yet?” Wednesday asked quickly. Since he had left an hour before, she had been feeling exposed and vulnerable without him. She knew it was just shock from her confrontation with Smaug, but she needed him.   
“Oh, Wednesday,” Gloria said, “It’s ok, we’re safe here.”   
“I should send someone to check your apartment,” Thorin said, looking at Gloria, “If Smaug knows about Orcrist, he may know about you.” He turned and left the room. 

 

Dís sank into an armchair opposite them, her hand covering her eyes.   
“It’s just the same,” she muttered.   
“What is?” Wednesday asked.   
“It was like this before, when Smaug first…” she stopped, “Let’s not talk about it, not today. Not when we have things we should be celebrating. I have a bottle of champagne in my fridge that I’ve been saving for the day I was finally free of Zak, but I don’t think booze is a good idea right now. So, instead, Gloria, tell us what happened with Oin today.” Gloria’s face brightened and Wednesday set her cup down on the table.   
“Yes, tell us what happened,” she said.   
“Well, it’s a little early, but he did a scan,” Gloria said excitedly, reaching for her purse, “Here. We have a picture.” She pulled out a picture and showed it to Wednesday.     
“Ok, you see that big black space,” Gloria said, “That’s the sac, and that little circle inside it, that’s my baby.”   
“Oh my gosh, that’s so weird,” Wednesday said, staring at the picture in her hand, “That little blob is going to be a person someday.”

 

_ He should be careful whose toes he goes stepping on, especially if you both want to live long enough for him to put a baby in your belly. _

 

Smaug’s words lurked at the edge of her mind and she quickly passed the scan to Dís.   
“Promise you’re going to be careful, Gloria,” she said, “Don’t do anything risky.”   
“I’ll be fine,” Gloria promised, taking hold of one of Wednesday’s hands, “We both will be. Thorin is watching out for me, and you have Thranduil watching out for you. We need to watch out for them too.”   
“Yeah, we do,” Wednesday said, even though she had no idea how she would even start trying to protect Thranduil, “When do you have to go again?”   
“Four weeks,” she said, “But I’ve got to speak to Louis. I can’t dance like I used to anymore.” The phone rang and Dís got up to answer it, handing the scan back to Gloria.   
“Wednesday, is everything ok?” Gloria asked, “You went a little pale when you looked at the scan….you’re not….”   
“No, no,” Wednesday cut her off, “It’s just...this guy Smaug who has everyone on edge….he said something about mine and Thranduil’s….future.”   
“Like if you guys have kids?”   
“He seemed to imply that if Thranduil didn’t back off, one or both of us won’t live long enough to see that happen,” she explained.   
“Oh, Weds,” Gloria said, full on throwing her arms around her friend, “It’s going to be okay.” Wednesday hugged her friend back. Dís came back as the two were parting.   
“That was Thranduil,” she explained, “They’ve swept the penthouse, Legolas is going to come and take you home, Wednesday.”

 

*

 

Wednesday thought that once she was home, she would relax more, but without Thranduil there, she just couldn’t. Legolas had gone round, ensuring all the windows were secure before locking the door behind him as he left to take Tauriel and Holly home. She tried changing out of her smart clothes, to remove any trace of Smaug, and into something more comfortable but it didn’t help. It felt like Smaug could emerge out of any shadow, leap from any cupboard, like he was hiding beneath the furniture. Eventually she retrieved the largest knife from the block in the kitchen and sat herself on the stairs, where she could watch the front door. She sat there for hours, ignoring her joints starting to stiffen from not moving, ignoring when her backside fell asleep from sitting. After a few hours, she could feel the tears starting again as she replayed everything that had happened in the bathroom over and over in her mind. She could almost feel it. His breath on her skin, the fingers of his henchmen digging into her. She could feel the bruises starting to form. It could have been so much worse. 

 

She could have struck her head. How long would she have been laying there before someone found her? 

 

Smaug had gotten in and out of the courthouse with ease. What if he had taken her? 

 

Her heart started racing as her breath caught in her chest. She needed Thranduil. She needed him to hold her, tell her everything was going to be okay, that he wouldn’t leave her alone and unprotected.

 

A sound at the door made her jump, her hand closing on the knife’s handle and lifting it. It opened and in stepped Thranduil. He looked up at her, his eyes slipping to the knife in her hand. He shut the door behind him.   
“Oh Wednesday,” he said softly. She let out a sob and dropped the knife. She clamboured to her feet but stumbled. He caught her and held her tightly.   
“It’s okay,” he said softly, running one hand through her hair, “I’m here now. Everything’s fine.”   
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed, “For being so pathetic.”   
“You’re not pathetic,” he reassured her, kissing her hair, “Smaug is incredibly dangerous, it’s okay to be scared of him. You did good today. Recording him on your phone was very smart.”   
“Is everybody okay?” she asked, wiping her tears away.   
“Everyone from Lake Dale has checked in, they’re watching for him but I think they’re safe,” he said gently, “Everyone here in the city has had their homes, cars and workplaces checked. We’ve acted quickly, he won’t be able to catch us off guard. It’s been a long time since I’ve done that much physical work.”   
“You stink,” Wednesday tried to joke.   
“You try checking thirteen cars for tampering,” he replied, “I could use a shower.” Wednesday nodded and watched as he returned the knife to the kitchen. She took his hand and led him up the stairs.

 

Once in the bathroom, Wednesday started the shower whilst Thranduil started stripping off the grease and sweat soaked clothes he was wearing. When she turned around, she started stripping off her own clothes until Thranduil’s hands stopped her.   
“What are you doing?” he asked. Wednesday looked up at him.   
“I don’t want to be alone,” she admitted, her voice small.   
“Okay,” he said, “Come with me then.” He helped her slip off her clothes and pulled her into the shower with him.

 

The hot water soon soaked the both of them as Thranduil held her close, his hands stroking her back. Wednesday just savoured being in his embrace. Today had been the longest day of her life, longer than waiting in the hospital as her father fought to the bitter end. Thranduil moved and grabbed the soap but Wednesday reached out and took it from him. She worked up a lather and started working on cleaning him. She started on his shoulders, working down one arm and then the other. Then across his chest and down his stomach. He let out a low groan and she looked down to see his cock had stirred into life. His hand tangled in her hair, pulling her head back and he kissed her hard.   
“You know that everything I do is to protect you, right?” he said gently as he pulled back, his hand still in her hair. Wednesday nodded.   
“Promise me that when I am not with you, you will be extra careful,” he said, “Don’t walk to your car alone at night, always lock the door when you’re home alone.”   
“I promise,” she whispered.   
“Good,” he said. His other hand came up to cup her chin as he walked her backwards until she hit the shower wall, the soap falling forgotten to the floor. He released her chin, his hand slipping down between her legs. He kissed her as she whimpered at his touch. He pulled back, letting out a low growl. Wednesday opened her eyes and she could see he was looking at her upper arm. The dark purple bruises there were the same shape as a man’s fingers, a reminder that someone had manhandled what belonged to him. He leaned in and rested his forehead against hers.   
“If anything had happened to you, I never would have forgiven myself,” he said. 

 

He stepped back under the spray, holding his hand out to her. He pulled her into his arms when she took his hand, wrapping his strong limbs around her and kissing her again. This time it was different. It was by far the most gentle kiss he had ever given her, reassuring each of them that the other was there. Wednesday’s arms slid around his waist, her hands splayed across his back. After they parted, Thranduil retrieved the soap and they took their time, working it into each others skin, washing the horrible day away. He massaged her scalp as he washed her hair, this tender act of caring more arousing for both of them then any dances or skimpy underwear. When it was his turn, Wednesday stepped behind him to ensure that the ends of his hair were thoroughly washed and conditioned. She leaned in and kissed along the edge of his shoulder blades and he reached back to run one hand down her curves. When he finally shut off the water, she was ready to head to bed, for one thing or another. Warm, fluffy towels were used to dry each other off, the act being used as an excuse to touch and caress each other until he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to their bedroom.

 

He pulled back the sheets and laid her down before climbing in with her and covering them. The simple act of pulling the sheets back up made it feel protected, shielded from the world, even though no one could see them. His lips came back down on hers and an involuntary moan escaped her as her legs parted.   
“Are you sure?” he asked gently against her mouth. She nodded and he slid between them, holding his weight off her by resting on his forearms. His hips brushed against hers and she could feel him, hard as steel, resting against her entrance. His focus remained on her mouth, kissing, tasting. His hips rocked against hers and she shuddered at the feel of his length rubbing against her and his chest brushing against her breasts. Her hands grasped at his back.   
“I love you so much,” he whispered, “I don’t know what I would do without you. You make me feel weak and strong at the same time.” Wednesday whimpered as he rocked against her again, this time the tip of his shaft slipping inside her. He let out a shuddering breath and stilled, his eyes closed as if he was trying to lock away the memory of that sensation.   
“Thranduil, I need you,” Wednesday whispered. He groaned, kissing her again and sinking into her as far as he could. 

 

He slowly began to move his hips, pulling out before pushing back in. He went slowly, none of the usual urgency in their lovemaking. Wednesday focussed on the sensation of him moving inside her, of the feel of his skin against hers and beneath her fingertips, on the sounds he made, little moans of pleasure, muttering her name between kisses. His fists clenched and relaxed at her sides as he fought the urge to grab her. She knew that this was the point where usually he would grab her hips and give it to her hard and fast until she was on the brink of orgasm, but not tonight. Whether it was because she already bore bruises or from the nasty shock Smaug had delivered her, she didn’t know, but he seemed to be focussing on being gentle with her. His lips moved from hers and began to trail down her neck. He shifted his weight onto one arm and his other hand moved to cup one breast. His thumb rolled across her nipple. He lowered his head and took it in his mouth, his tongue flicking against the hardened nub at its peak. Wednesday let out a cry, tilting her hips to take him deeper and locked her legs around his hips.   
“Fuck,” she heard him curse before doing it again, suckling harder this time. She felt herself clench around him, earning her a muffled grunt and a harder thrust.   
“Please,” she pleaded with him, “Thranduil, please, I need to cum. Please.” He lifted his head from her breast and returned to her mouth, the slow pace of both his kiss and his thrusts driving her to distraction. His hand remained at her breast, his long fingers tweaking and caressing her nipple until she was almost sobbing with frustration. He moved his hand away and slid his arm under her. He rolled them over, so she was on top, his hands sat gently on her hips. She didn’t waste any time, repositioning her legs to give herself leverage and rolling her hips. She could already feel the tightenings in her lower belly even as Thranduil slowed her thrusts with his hands.   
“No rushing tonight,” he whispered as she lowered her head, her dark hair forming a curtain around them.   
“But I need….” she started.   
“I know, and we have all night to get there,” he whispered. He rocked his hips up, prompting a long moan from her.   
“Over and over again,” he promised before lifting his head and taking her breast in his mouth again. She clenched around him, earning a satisfied noise from him as he guided her hips in a slow roll that dragged her clit along his pubic bone. She repeated the movement, his tongue swirling on her sensitive flesh, his hand firmly guiding her until her toes began to curl. He returned to kissing her mouth as one hand slipped between them. His thumb found her swollen clit. His kiss swallowed her cries as she climbed ever higher until finally, she tumbled over the peak, her toes curled and her hips bucking against him. His hands held her firm as she rode it out, him giving nothing but a grunt and gentle twitch of his cock. He was far from done with her.

 

*

 

Somewhere around the third or fourth orgasm, she fell asleep. The last thing she was aware of, was him grunting and throbbing inside of her, that familiar warm rush as he spent himself as deep inside her as he could. It was some time later that she woke, the sound of his voice bringing her from sleep. Only, it wasn’t her he was speaking to. She opened one eye. The sky outside was pitch black, meaning it was the middle of the night. Thranduil stood near the large windows, gloriously bare, the lights from the city casting a halo-like glow around him. She smiled for a moment until she heard the seriousness in his voice and realised one hand was near his ear. He was on the phone.   
“So you’re in position?” he said before listening to whoever was on the other end, “Good. Galion will be along at six to relieve you, report in then. Any sign of him?” Wednesday rolled slightly, making the sheets rustle and Thranduil’s head turned slightly.   
“Well, just because his jet left the country, doesn’t mean he did,” he continued, “Make sure to check in with Durinson security, see if they found anything we missed. I don’t want anything like this to happen again. It could be much worse. Alright, I’ll speak to you in the morning Feren.” He lowered the phone and hung up before turning back towards the bed. He dropped his phone on the bedside table and climbed in beside her.   
“Go back to sleep,” he whispered as he pulled her into his arms.   
“Not without you,” she replied, shifting as close to him as possible, “Never without you.”


	31. All She Needs

The first thing Wednesday became aware of as she woke the following morning was that she was alone. She sat upright, clutching the sheets to her chest, looking around. The only hint that Thranduil had even been there was the closet door was slightly ajar and a cup of coffee sitting on her bedside table with a note. She opened it and smiled.   
  


_ ‘I couldn’t disturb you when you looked so peaceful. Come join me when you finish your sweet dreams, my love.’ _

 

Slipping from the sheets, she put on a silk camisole and shorts before grabbing the coffee and heading downstairs. She could hear Thranduil moving around in the kitchen. She could see him as she reached the bottom of the stairs. He was dressed for work, pressed black slacks and vest with a light blue shirt. He probably had a whole day of meetings. He looked up as she entered and smiled.   
“Hello my love,” he said, his voice deep and rumbling as he slipped an arm around her waist. He kissed her deeply, pulling her in as close as possible. She could feel him semi-hard, pressing against her thigh so she slid her tongue against his lips, hoping to draw him into a little morning fun. The night before had been so tender, so sweet, it had left her hungry for more. He briefly opened up, tangling his tongue with hers for a moment before pulling back.   
“Not this morning,” he said quietly, “We have company.” Wednesday quirked an eyebrow and he nodded into the living room, towards the couch. 

 

She headed over and looked over the back. Laid out on the large couch asleep was a young man. He was probably just a couple inches shorter than Thranduil, with long golden-brown hair that was tied back in a ponytail. A black, leather coat, covered his shoulders and upper torso, a pair of boots sat on the floor next to the couch and his sock-covered feet were raised up on the arm. Wednesday looked back at Thranduil.   
“Meet Feren,” he said softly, beckoning her back to the kitchen. She hurried back.   
“Nice to put a face to the voice and name,” Wednesday said, recalling the series of phone calls she had answered from the mystery man in the lead up to Legolas’ return home.   
“He’s going to be watching over you from now on when I’m not around,” Thranduil explained, “He’s just getting a couple of hours of sleep before you need to go to work.”   
“Thranduil, I don’t want a bodyguard,” Wednesday protested as quietly as she could.   
“Wednesday, yesterday, a man whose greatest desire is to see me dead or ruined, was able to get his hands on you in a courthouse,” Thranduil said, “I know you know it could have been so much worse than it was. Okay, you could have been taken away, never to be seen again. Smaug is dangerous, I don’t want anything to happen to you.” 

 

Wednesday looked down at her feet. He was right. Yesterday had scared all of them, made them realise how vulnerable they were. She looked back up at Thranduil and for a brief moment, it was Smaug looming over her. She stepped back, blinking.   
“Wednesday, it’s okay, it’s me,” Thranduil said softly, taking her hand and pulling her back towards him. He wrapped his arms around her, gently stroking her back to comfort her.

“Okay,” she breathed, “We’ll give Feren a try.”   
“He knows what he’s doing,” Thranduil reassured her, kissing her head, “Now, I have to go to work but I’ll see you at lunch at Cafe Pierre’s, remember? Tauriel’s godmother is coming into town.” Wednesday remembered him mentioning her and nodded.   
“Good, I’ll see you then,” he said. He bent down and gave her a kiss, his hand coming up to stroke her cheek as he cheekily gave her a little tongue, just enough to make her whimper a little before he pulled back and headed to the front door. Wednesday followed him and watched him leave, wishing she could drag him back to bed for a little.   
“I don’t know which one of us was more turned on by that.” A voice behind her made Wednesday jump and she span round. Feren was sat up, watching from over the back of the couch.   
“Oh my god, you scared me,” she said, slumping against the wall, a hand over her heart. Feren chuckled.   
“Wait, were you watching me make out with your boss?” she asked.    
“No, but I could hear you,” he said, “I’ve got very sharp hearing. Comes in handy sometimes. Anyway, it’s nice to finally meet you properly, Wednesday, even if it is when you’ve got your tongue down Thranduil’s throat.”   
“Is this what he pays you for? Inappropriate comments on his love life?” she asked, not sure if he was being rude or funny.   
“Nah, it’s just a little freebie I like to throw in occasionally,” Feren said, grinning, “Nice jammies.” Wednesday looked down and flushed. They weren’t exactly conservative. The camisole top emphasised the curve of her breasts and there was just a little butt cheek poking out the bottom of her shorts.   
“I’m going to go get changed,” she said before hurrying upstairs.

 

She changed into the leggings and t-shirt she usually wore when she had rehearsals. She remembered what Thranduil had said about meeting Tauriel’s godmother for lunch so she opened the closet up and started scanning through her clothes, soon finding a black pencil skirt and matching it with a wine-coloured body suit with elbow-length sleeves, long enough to cover the bruises. She pulled out a pair of black heels and retrieved some pantyhose, tossing them over the hangar with the skirt. She knew Cafe Pierre’s was a classy place, smiling as she remembered Thranduil taking her there in the first few weeks of their relationship. She would have to come back the apartment to shower after work anyway so at least she didn’t have to worry about carrying a change of clothes around. She headed back downstairs to find Feren slouching on the couch, a cup of coffee in one hand and his phone in the other. He didn’t look like a bodyguard, but then again, maybe that was the point. He could blend in with the crowd, more like a spy.    
“Alright there, double-oh seven,” she said as she headed into the kitchen. Feren’s head whipped round.   
“Did I miss something?”   
“No, I was just thinking that you look more like a spy than a bodyguard,” she explained. Feren just raised an eyebrow and went back to his phone. Wednesday poured herself another cup of coffee and headed to sit on the opposite end of the couch to Feren who was smiling at something.   
“So,” he said eventually, “Itinerary for today as I understand it is, you have rehearsals from nine til eleven thirty, then I’m to take you to Woodland Realm to meet Thranduil and then to Cafe Pierre for about one. I wasn’t told about anything for this afternoon.”   
“Depends on how rehearsals go this morning,” Wednesday said, “If we suck, I may have to duck out of lunch early.”   
“From what I’ve seen of your dancing, I doubt you’ll suck,” Feren said nonchalantly as he scrolled through his phone with his thumb.   
“You’ve seen me dance?”   
“Mmmhmm,” he said casually, “Before I got sent to California, Thranduil asked me to do a background check on you.”   
“He had you do a what?”   
“Background check, he wanted to make sure you weren’t just looking for a sugar daddy,” Feren said, “I know you’ve seen the bank balance, can you blame him?” Wednesday cast her mind back to Lake Dale, when he’d been working out how money would work after he paid into Orcrist. It had been substantial, it made sense he wanted to protect it from unscrupulous people who would only want to use him.   
“Alright, so what did your background check turn up?” she asked.   
“Wednesday Elizabeth McQueen, age, closer to thirty than you want to admit,” Feren recited, “No siblings, no marriages, no children. Some minor debt but you were on top of all your bills. Father, David, deceased, mother, Victoria, left twenty years ago, no contact. You had been working at The Firehouse for just a few weeks, no previous experience as a stripper but plenty of waitressing jobs. Nothing to suggest you were looking for someone to take care of you.”   
“And you came to The Firehouse?”   
“I went on several occasions actually,” he said, “I think I’ve seen almost as much of your body as Thranduil has.”   
“Oh, I bet that was your favourite assignment ever,” Wednesday commented, “Go to a strip club and watch the ladies dance.” Feren muttered something under his breath that she couldn’t hear.   
“We’ll leave in about ten minutes,” he said in a louder voice, “Thranduil would have my hide if you were late.”

“Is he really that much of a hard ass of a boss?” she asked.

“He's demanding but he pays me well so I always deliver,” Feren explained, “Put your shoes on.” Wednesday held her hands up in mock surrender and went to retrieve her shoes and bag.

 

When she came back, Feren was waiting for her by the front door, still looking at his phone. He didn’t even look at her as he opened the door and waited for her to leave. It felt strange being followed as she walked to the elevator. Feren didn’t seem to be interested in making chit-chat, probably because he was working, but he put his phone back into his coat pocket. Wednesday watched him closely as they descended down to the basement parking lot.   
“What?” he asked after a few moments.   
“I’m trying to remember you.” she replied, “But I can’t place you ever being at The Firehouse.”   
“Maybe that’s the point,” Feren said, raising an eyebrow. The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Feren stepped out first this time, and led the way to a dark Lexus with tinted windows. He opened the rear door and Wednesday slid in. Feren shut the door and got into the driver’s seat. He withdrew his phone from his pocket and put it in the holder on the dash and attached a bluetooth headset to his ear. He tapped on his phone for a moment and the headset flashed blue.   
“Yeah, we’re in the car,” he said, clearly to someone on the other end, “We should be there in less than twenty. Okay, boss. No, I’m not repeating that....you don’t pay me....If you want her to hear mushy love….I’m not doing it, text her!” He tapped his phone again.   
“Man doesn’t pay me enough for that,” he mumbled as he started the car. Wednesday fought to stop herself from giggling.   
“What did he want you to tell me?” she asked, fighting to keep a straight face.   
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Feren grumbled, “It’s not part of my job description.”   
“What is your job description?” she asked. Feren didn’t respond, but sent her a glare through the rear view mirror.   
“The less you know, the better,” he said quietly.

 

They arrived at the theatre with no problems. Traffic seemed to melt away whenever Feren encountered it. He followed her into the building, just a few paces behind her and Tiana who had arrived at the same time. His presence drew a few double takes from Louis and Evan. Louis hurried over but a few words whispered in his ear by Feren had him backing off. Feren seated himself at a booth, close to the centre of the room and watched as Wednesday headed backstage.   
“Who is that?” Tiana asked as they entered the dressing room.   
“Feren, he works for Thranduil,” Wednesday replied.   
“Why is he here?” Tiana asked. Wednesday stopped. How much could she tell the other woman? Would it be safe to even let her know?   
“I was assaulted in the bathroom at the courthouse yesterday,” she said carefully, “By someone who has it in for Thranduil. Feren’s here to keep an eye out in case we get any reprisals.” She kept from mentioning too many specifics. If Tiana knew the bare minimum, she would be safer, Wednesday thought.   
“Oh my gosh, are you ok?”   
“I’m a little bruised, and I was a little shaken, but I’m fine,” she said. Tiana opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by Ruby running over and throwing her arms around Wednesday.   
“Gloria called me last night, are you okay?” she said.   
“Yeah, I’m fine, really,” Wednesday said, pushing Ruby back a little, “Can we please just focus on work? I don’t want to think about yesterday.” Ruby nodded and she and Tiana dispersed, leaving Wednesday to drop into her makeup chair. She tied up her hair and checked the schedule for which dance they were doing first. She smiled. It was an elaborate dance, one that would require her to focus on what she was doing, and what Jude, her partner for this dance was doing. 

 

*

 

As the final chords of the song played out, Wednesday could feel her heartbeat had increased substantially, her muscles felt warm and she felt more relaxed than she had for the past twenty-four hours. The sound of people clapping brought her from her thoughts as Jude straightened her up and put her back on her feet.   
“Wonderful,” called Harry, the choreographer, “Just wonderful. If you can manage that on opening night, it will be magnificent!” Wednesday blushed as she caught sight of Feren’s face. The look on his face told her that Thranduil might not quite appreciate it as much. It was a dance that required her to be extremely close with Jude, almost constantly touching and she remembered the jealous look on his face when he realised there were now male dancers involved. Then again, that jealousy might tip him over into possessiveness, and that in Thranduil meant only one thing. She blushed again at the image of Thranduil throwing her down on the bed and reminding her whose she was.

 

Feren caught her attention and tapped his watch. Time to go, it seemed.   
“You’ve all done wonderfully,” Harry continued, “We’ll see you all again tomorrow, and don’t forget Saturday is opening night!” And with that, he pranced off towards the bar, earning an eye roll from Louis and Evan who followed him. Wednesday hurried off to the dressing room, quickly removing her makeup which was far too much for daytime and then setting about changing out of her costume.    
“Whoa, honey, what’s the hurry?” came Jude’s voice as he watched her launch her skirt towards the rail and quickly pull on her leggings.   
“Sorry, I’ve got to rush off,” she explained as she quickly brushed out her hair.   
“Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to join us for lunch,” Jude said.   
“Thanks, but I’m meeting Thranduil for lunch,” she said.   
“Yeah, I was afraid you were going to say that,” he replied, “When was the last time you hung out with just your friends?” Wednesday paused.   
“Hung out hung out, or hung out on the phone?” she asked.   
“Hung out hung out.”   
“Just after the Firehouse burnt down,” she said, “We commiserated over cocktails with our final paychecks.”   
“Which was what? Two months ago?”   
“Yeah, why?”   
“He’s keeping you from your friends,” Jude said. Wednesday instantly rolled her eyes. Did he really just say that?   
“Thranduil is not keeping me from anything,” she snapped.   
“So why is it whenever anybody asks you to do something after work, you’re busy?” Jude snorted, “If you do come, you bring him. You’ve got someone following you, spying on you for him, and don’t think I didn’t see the bruises.” Wednesday slammed her hairbrush down.   
“You know nothing about my life outside of work,” she shouted, turning on him, “Believe it or not, I am busy after work. I’m trying to start my own business and for that, I need to do my homework, I need to do market research, designing logos, pricelists, I need to find stockists. I have about a hundred grant requests from various arts charities that are still waiting to be filled in before I can even start finishing the renovation of the building.” Jude blinked and stepped back.   
“And whilst I am doing all that, Thranduil is busting his ass to ensure we keep our heads above water,” she said, “He starts early, he finishes late most days so yeah, I rush off so I can spend some quality time with him. I bring him along for the same reason. Because I love him, because I’m going to marry him, so I want him to be as much a part of my friends lives as I am.”   
“So why is he having you followed?” Jude said as he scowled and crossed his arms.   
“To keep me safe,” she retorted, “He didn’t get to where he is without making a few enemies. The bruises are from one of those enemies, I got assaulted yesterday, that’s why Feren is out there, keeping an eye on me.”   
“If being with him is so dangerous, why are you still with him?”   
“Oh my god! Did you really just say that?” Wednesday threw her arms up in the air, “After everything I just said? I love him, and not just him. I love his son, and his daughter, and her little girl too. He’s my family, and I’m not going to walk away just because things have gotten a little tough.”   
“I think you’re pathetic if you need him to be happy,” Jude spat.   
“You know what, Jude, you’re welcome to think that,” Wednesday replied, grabbing her bag and heading for the door. She slammed it shut behind her.   
“Everything ok?” Feren asked as she stormed past.   
“I don’t want to talk about it,” was her reply.

 

*

 

She managed to hold off on crying until she was back at the penthouse and in the shower. She didn’t want Feren to hear, mainly because he would tell Thranduil who she didn’t doubt would rain all kinds of hell down on Jude for it. How could he think that? And who was he to pass judgement on her relationship with Thranduil? He didn’t even know him, and he barely knew her. She sighed and turned the water off. She didn’t need Jude’s friendship. She wrapped herself in a towel and headed for the bedroom to get changed.

 

She trotted downstairs fifteen minutes later, refreshed and ready to go. Screw Jude, she had told herself, she didn’t need him. She had Thranduil, and she was off to go meet more people who were part of his world. That was all she needed.


	32. Ungoliant

Wednesday knew that Feren kept glancing at her as they made their way to meet Thranduil. She would see his eyes flick up to meet hers in the rearview mirror, but he never asked her about what had happened to upset her. She had little doubt that he would report an incident had happened to his boss, and no doubt at all that Thranduil would try to get her to talk about it. And he would use every dirty trick he knew, in and out of bed, to do it. Eventually she turned her gaze to watching out the car window. They were heading into the middle of the business district. She’d never been to Thranduil’s office before, she hadn’t even been to this part of the city before. The buildings got taller and taller, and more modern in their architecture before Feren pulled into the circular driveway in front of one. The building was a mix of sandy-coloured stone and large glass windows, a fountain in the centre of the circular driveway. A few people in suits milled about outside, inside was a hub of activity. The floor-to-ceiling windows allowed Wednesday to see people hurrying about. Except quite a few weren’t hurrying about as if they had to rush to a meeting or for a bathroom break. They were running towards the entrance.

 

Feren opened the car door and extended a hand to help her out as his phone beeped. He shut the door and checked his phone.   
“Ah, crap,” he muttered just as the large glass doors flew open and several people dressed in security uniforms hauled a woman out by her arms. The woman’s red hair and smart clothes were in disarray and she looked frantic. She was screeching and fighting against their grip as they got her out of the building. Moments later, Thranduil emerged, rubbing his jaw. His vest buttons were undone and his blue shirt was slightly untucked. He looked furious. One of the security officers looked at him.   
“Get her out of here!” he ordered. They nodded and hauled the woman to her feet, marching her away from the premises and towards the road. The woman seemed to stop resisting, starting to cry loudly instead. Feren’s hand closed gently over Wednesday’s arm and pulled her back a couple of steps as the group grew closer. 

 

Suddenly the woman wrenched herself out of the grip of the security officers and launched herself at them.   
“You bitch!” she screamed as she lunged at Wednesday, her long nails reaching out as if to scratch her. Feren instantly wrapped his arms around Wednesday and swung her out of harm’s way. Wednesday’s heart pounded in her chest as her feet briefly left the ground. The familiar wail of a police siren came and a patrol car pulled up in front of the Lexus Feren had driven her in. Two police officers got out, sending the woman into even more hysterics as one of them produced a set of handcuffs. Feren kept one arm around Wednesday’s shoulders and quickly escorted her away towards the building. Thranduil remained in the doorway, no longer rubbing his jaw but standing, tall and proud, with his arms folded. The woman was cuffed and put in the back of the police car.    
“What happened?” Feren asked him as they got close.   
“You wouldn’t believe me,” Thranduil said, “I need you to go to my office, get the security footage from in there for the last half an hour ready for the cops. You’ll see.”   
“We’d just pulled up when I got your message or I would have driven around the block a few times,” Feren explained.   
“I know,” Thranduil replied, “That was some quick thinking on your part just now, I’m impressed.”   
“I’ll go get that footage ready,” Feren said.   
“Keep Wednesday in my office, just in case,” Thranduil ordered him. Feren nodded and resumed leading Wednesday in as one of the police officers approached Thranduil.

 

“Who was that?” Wednesday asked as Feren lead her into the building and headed towards an elevator.   
“That was Sadie, Thranduil’s secretary,” Feren explained, “She’s been working for him for almost five years, all I know about what’s happened is she’s been let go. Effective immediately.”   
“Is that what the text was?” she asked as the elevator doors opened and they stepped in. Feren pressed the button for the twenty-third floor.   
“Yeah, Thranduil asked that I delay our arrival for ten minutes but it was too late,” he answered, “Are you ok?”   
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Wednesday replied, “I wonder what she did that was so bad that she was fired immediately. Just last week, he mentioned what a great job she did with his diary.” Feren shrugged.   
“We’ll find out when we get to his office,” he said.

 

The elevator dinged and the doors opened onto a reception area. The desk in front of them was neat and tidy, a vase with fresh wild flowers sat to one side. A large day-to-page diary lay open on the desk, the computer monitor next to it had the corresponding day open too. The page of the diary was carefully filled in with neat handwriting, various different entries colour-coded. Another smaller diary sat on the other side of the monitor was labelled ‘employee birthdays’ and a notification flashed on the monitor that read ‘Charlotte (call centre) and Ted (HR) birthdays today’. Wednesday could see straight away as she passed that Thranduil had been telling the truth when he’d commented what a good job his secretary had been doing.

 

They passed her desk and headed into Thranduil’s office. It was huge. The far wall had the floor to ceiling windows that Thranduil was so fond of, his desk in the centre with a slightly newer computer monitor than Sadie’s. Another large diary lay on the floor near his chair which was pushed back. A coffee cup lay not far away, the brown liquid spilt on the hard floor. A picture frame sat on his desk, and Wednesday could see it was a picture of the two of them from the charity ball in December. She didn’t remember the picture being taken but she smiled when she looked at it. Her eyes were closed, her head thrown back in laughter whilst Thranduil looked down at her, pure adoration in his gaze, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist. That had been the night he had told her that he loved her. The night she had met Smaug. She shuddered.   
“Have a seat,” Feren said as he pushed the chair back towards the desk and picked up the coffee cup and diary. Wednesday glanced around. To the left was a black leather sofa and two matching chairs with a black glass coffee table between them, to the right, a large oval table with eight chairs around it. She headed for the sofa as Feren began tapping at the keyboard of the computer, searching for the footage Thranduil had requested.

 

A few moments passed in silence as Feren continued his search until he let out a low whistle.   
“You may want to come look at this,” he said. Wednesday walked over and looked at the monitor. The camera was looking down at Thranduil’s desk, probably to protect its contents and his computer. He was leaning back in his chair, one ankle resting on the opposite knee as he read through his diary, the coffee cup in his hand. There was no sound on the footage but she saw him raise his head and look up. Sadie appeared, coming round to the same side of the desk as Thranduil and perching herself on it. Wednesday felt a twinge in her stomach as Sadie’s skirt rode up to reveal the tops of her stockings and she casually laid the picture of Wednesday and Thranduil face down on the desk. The two of them seemed to chat for a little, Thranduil closing his diary, but leaving it resting on his lap. At one point, Sadie threw back her head in laughter. Then she was reaching for Thranduil, sending the coffee cup and diary to the floor. She managed to undo his vest buttons before Thranduil swatted her hands away as he stood. She withdrew for a second before lunging forward and untucking part of his shirt. Wednesday felt a wash of nausea as she watched Sadie’s hand reach for Thranduil’s groin. Once again he swatted her hands away before pointing at her, making it clear he wasn’t going to stand for her antics. Sadie’s response was to attempt to kiss him, this time groping him through his pants. Thranduil physically pushed her away, causing her to fall to the floor. 

 

When she did not rise, Thranduil approached her and offered her a hand to get up off the floor. Sadie took it only to swing her fist at him once she was up on her feet. The action caught Thranduil off-guard. Her hand connected with his jaw, causing him to stumble back a few steps before grabbing the phone on his desk and dialling a number. Within seconds, security officers swarmed in, seizing Sadie and pulling her from the room. Thranduil waited behind, rubbing his jaw before lifting the picture back upright and following them.   
“I’d say attempting to give the boss an unwanted handjob is definitely grounds for dismissal,” Feren muttered as he stopped the footage.   
“Stupid bitch,” Wednesday replied, “She knew what she was doing was wrong.”   
“Oh, you spotted the picture thing too?”   
“Of course I did,” she said, “She didn’t want me to see.” The door to the office opened and Thranduil and the two police officers came in.   
“Do you have the footage?” Thranduil asked as Wednesday hurried towards him.   
“Yep,” said Feren, beckoning for the officers to come see for themselves.

 

“Are you okay?” Wednesday asked in a low voice as she smoothed Thranduil’s hair back.   
“I’m fine,” he said.   
“I saw what she did,” she said, gently running her fingers over the jaw that Sadie had struck.   
“I’m fine,” he repeated, “It’s not the first time I’ve had a woman throw herself at me.”   
“She touched you though,” Wednesday protested before dropping her voice to a hushed whisper, “She touched what was mine.” Thranduil smiled at her words.   
“Yours?” he said in a low voice that made his sound even deeper than normal, “It’s yours, is it?”   
“Yes,” Wednesday said firmly, “All of you, it’s mine.” He slid his arm around her waist, holding her tightly against him.   
“Hey boss, you want me to give them the footage of her attempting to assault Wednesday too?” Feren’s voice made Thranduil turn his head slightly but his gaze never left Wednesday.   
“Yes,” Thranduil answered, “Give them everything, and make an extra back-up.”

“Done,” said Feren, “Alright, officers, there you go. I’ll see you out.” Feren pulled a flash drive from the computer and handed it to one of the officers before escorting him out.

 

As soon as they heard the sound of the elevator doors closing, Wednesday pulled his head down for a kiss, tracing his lower lip with her tongue. He pulled back.   
“As arousing as the notion that my person belongs to you is,” he whispered, “You’ll forgive me if I don’t feel like being intimate just now, given what’s happened.” Wednesday blushed and nodded. Well, this was a first. He leaned in and kissed her forehead.   
“I love you, and I’m sorry you had to see this mess,” he said before stepping away from her, “Sadie has worked for me for...well, years and she’s never done anything like this before. I don’t know what came over her.” He stood and looked out the window, his hands in his pockets, staring out at the city. And for the first time, Wednesday saw him look completely lost and unsure of what to do. She stepped up behind him and wrapped her arms around him. One of his hands emerged from his pocket and covered hers. She leaned in, smelling that familiar mix of the laundry detergent they used and his cologne. She sighed happily as she felt him lean back slightly against her.

 

Their peaceful moment was interrupted as the phone on his desk started ringing.   
“Leave it,” Wednesday whispered. Thranduil glanced at it and saw who was calling.   
“Shit,” he said, “I have to answer. He wouldn’t call if it wasn’t important.” Wednesday pouted but nodded and pulled back. He was working after all. She saw a man’s name with the words call centre on the phone screen before Thranduil answered.   
“What’s up?” he asked before listening to the person on the other end.   
“Oh, fuck, not again,” he said after a moment, “Who answered her?” More silence.   
“Katy? Right, right, I’ll be right there,” he said. He put the phone down.   
“I’m sorry,” he said, “We’ve got a tricky customer currently laying in to one of my staff for something that’s not our fault, I’ve got to go deal with her before half of them quit. Why don’t you come with me? See how we run things here?” Wednesday nodded as he moved from his desk, straightening his clothes and fastening up his vest.   
“I don’t mind, so long as I’m with you,” she said. She wrapped her arms around one of his and linked her fingers with his. He smiled down at her and led the way out the office.

 

*

 

The call centre was on the ground floor of the building, a massive room with dozens of tiny cubicles, all manned by a well-dressed person wearing a wireless headset and looking at their computer screens. An older, balding man was waiting for Thranduil at the door, one of the headsets in his hand.   
“Graham,” Thranduil said in greeting, “This is Wednesday.”   
“Ah, I’ve heard lots about you,” Graham said smiling briefly before turning back to Thranduil, “Katy’s on phone six, I’m telling you, that Ungoliant woman has gone too far now.” He handed the headset to Thranduil who put it on. Wednesday could tell he was listening in to some sort of exchange, and not a very pleasant one either. His face showed growing fury as he began striding off towards the cubicle with the number six on it. Wednesday and Graham followed close behind.

 

Katy, the girl on phone six, was no more than eighteen years old, her blond curly hair was held back in a voluminous ponytail. She was wringing her hands and her head was bowed. Wednesday could see fat tears leaking from the girl’s eyes. Thranduil placed a gentle hand on Katy’s shoulder before crouching down to her seated height. He placed a finger to his lips and Katy nodded, a look of relief washing over her. He was like a dashing white knight, coming to her rescue. He was silent for a few moments, obviously listening to what was being said on the other end.   
“Well, if our service is that unsatisfactory, why not just cancel your contract with us?” he said suddenly, before nudging Katy to leave. Katy whipped off her headset and practically ran towards Graham.   
“Go get something to eat,” Graham said softly, “Stay in the canteen, he’ll probably want to speak to you.” Katy nodded and hurried off. Thranduil meanwhile had taken Katy’s seat, leaning back in it, looking both at ease and in control.   
“I still fail to see why you felt the need to berate a young girl about something she has no control over,” he said, followed by more silence as he started moving the mouse to Katy’s computer, “I’m afraid I have no manager for you to speak to.” He clicked through what was clearly the client’s file.   
“Oh, you have the CEO on your side?” he said in mock surprise, “That’s interesting because I am the CEO, Ms Ungoliant.” A grin spread over his face as he heard the woman’s reaction.   
“Yes, I am Thranduil Elfking,” he said, “And looking at your file, the particular manager you are complaining about, is not one of ours.  No, Madam, we did not send this person. In fact, according to the notes added to your file by….Janet Sinclair, the manager we DID send, you hired this person yourself against her advice six months ago….and they haven’t attended a single training session Janet arranged for them, or even completed a full week of work in that time. No, Madam, we cannot take responsibility for a managers incompetence if they are hired against our advice and do not attend the training sessions we organise.” He went quiet again, as he listened, one eyebrow raising up at one point.   
“In that case, Madam, I shall be returning your fifty-thousand dollar fee,” he said, “Minus any remaining expenses Janet has yet to claim. The money will be in your account on Friday and we shall email you an itemised breakdown. Goodbye.” He pressed a button on the headset and removed it, dropping it on the table.   
“Later, bitch,” he muttered before using the computer to add a note to the file. He stood up and noticed that at least a dozen faces were looking at him.   
“Back to work,” he ordered and they quickly made themselves busy.

 

Wednesday smiled as he walked back to her.   
“That was really nice what you did for that girl,” she said.   
“I don’t tolerate any abuse of my employees,” he stated, “Verbal or otherwise. Ungoliant is no great loss. She is a very small fish in our ocean who thinks she’s a blue whale. I’ll be glad to have Janet freed back up for a more substantial client. Graham, alert security. Ungoliant’s no threat but that daughter of hers and her grandsons could be a nuisance. Oh, and have human resources give Janet an extra weeks paid vacation. She’s going to need it.” Graham nodded and headed off.    
“So, this is going to seem a stupid question,” Wednesday said as Thranduil slid an arm around her waist and guided her towards the door, “But what exactly is it you do?” Thranduil laughed.   
“Business investment and development,” he said, “We invest in new businesses, get them started and we have competent managers who help hire and train personnel for our clients. Janet’s my best and longest-serving employee. Katy is her daughter so I’m certain she’ll be glad to be shot of Ungoliant too.”   
“Well, I’m impressed,” Wednesday said, smiling up at him.   
“Would you join me to go speak to Katy?” he asked.   
“Sure, why? Is she scared of you?”   
“No, but I’ve known her since she was six weeks old,” he said, “Janet’s sitter dropped out at the last minute so Katy came along to her mother’s job interview. Its what swayed my decision to hire her, seeing her so cool and calm when she’s thrown in at the deep end. I’ve watched Katy grow up.” Wednesday felt her heart swell at the sweetness of his words and the faint smile on his face.   
“You’re adorable, you know that?” she said.   
“Hush, they’ll hear you,” Thranduil whispered even as he grinned and glanced at the rest of the call centre staff. 

 

As they headed for the door, they passed a photocopier. Wednesday glanced up and spotted a noticeboard above it. There, in the centre, was an aged photocopy with the words, ‘Is this your ass?’ written on it. She bit back laughter as Thranduil leaned in to her ear and whispered, “Not a word!”


	33. Turn Up The Heat

Cafe Pierre was as busy as any high-end cafe should be at lunchtime. Young socialites eating miniscule salads, ladies-who-lunched drinking extra large gin and tonics, business leaders posturing across the table to their peers and/or rivals, and several college-age waiting staff looking wholly professional as they wound their way through the maze of tables only for the mask to slip as they retreated to the kitchen and start looking like a deer in headlights. The general hustle and bustle and buzz of chatter dropped a little as Thranduil walked through the door behind Wednesday. Several people glanced over, both men and women. Food dropped from forks onto expensive designer clothing and a waitress nearly somersaulted over a table when her gaze slipped to him rather than on her path. Wednesday bit her lip. At six foot five, with long platinum blond hair, he drew stares wherever they went. Stares of wonder at first, soon becoming stares of jealousy when they saw he had someone on his arm.

 

“Thranduil!” a voice called as the low hum of voices reached it’s previous volume. Thranduil glanced round for the source before smiling and acknowledging another blond man stood to the far right of them. He stood just over six feet but still a few inches shorter than Thranduil who had begun weaving his way through the tables towards him.  
“Celeborn!” Thranduil said before embracing the man, “It has been too long!” He turned his attention to the woman sat next to Celeborn.   
“Galadriel, as beautiful as ever, I see,” Thranduil complimented her as he bent down and kissed her cheek.   
“Tongue is still silver as always,” she replied before leaning slightly to one side to get a better look at Wednesday.   
“Ah, yes,” Thranduil said, stepping back to put his arm around Wednesday’s shoulders, “This is Wednesday, my fiancee. Wednesday, may I introduce Galadriel and Celeborn Light. Old friends from my high school days. Celeborn is a partner in a prestigious law firm, and my personal attorney, and Galadriel is one of the countries top event planners.” Wednesday smiled at the couple who exchanged glances and gentle smiles.   
“Legolas did say she was beautiful,” Galadriel said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you Wednesday.”   
“And you,” Wednesday replied, “It’s always so nice to meet friends of Thranduil’s.”

Thranduil guided her to sit on Celeborn’s right-hand side and he sat on hers. Next to him was an empty seat, then Kili, Tauriel and then a young blonde woman who was sharing some secret joke with Tauriel.   
“Oh, and this is their daughter,” Thranduil said, “Celebrian.Though, I never would have recognised you. You’ve changed a lot since I last saw you.” Celebrian blushed.   
“Last time you saw me, I still had braces,” she laughed, “That was before high-school, I’ve just finished college!”   
“Yes, so we’re job hunting whilst we’re in town too,” Galadriel said, “I don’t suppose you have any openings at Woodland Realm for a personal assistant?”   
“Would you believe it, there actually is,” Thranduil replied, “I just had to let my secretary go, so I need someone who can start immediately and can pick up their predecessors system quickly.” Galadriel tapped her daughter’s arm, prompting the girl to pick her purse up off the floor and retrieve something.   
“Resume?” Thranduil asked. Celebrian nodded.   
“I’ll give it a look over,” he said. He stood and took the sheets of paper from her, rolling them up and putting it in the inside pocket of his jacket.   
“You don’t have to give her a job,” Celeborn said, giving his wife a look that suggested this exact scenario had been discussed already.   
“Well, if she’s not what I’m looking for, I can at least help with anything that could be polished up a little,” Thranduil said, “You’ve done wonderful legal work for me over the years, it’s the least I can do. How is everything over at Woods & Light?”   
“It’s Woods, Light and Peredhel as of last week,” Celeborn said, “Ah, here he is now. Thranduil, our new legal partner, Elrond Peredhel.”

Thranduil and Wednesday turned to greet a younger, dark-haired man who had approached the table.   
“Elrond, meet Thranduil Elfking and his fiancee, Wednesday,” Celeborn carried out the introductions, “Thranduil here runs Woodland Realm, and Wednesday….forgive me, I don’t think I know what you do, Wednesday.”   
“I’m a dancer,” she said, “I’m working at a new venue called _Le Lutin Infidèle_ at the moment.”   
“A dancer, how wonderful,” said Galadriel, “Are you any good at choreography?”   
“Darling, this is not a networking opportunity,” Celeborn reminded her, “We’re here to discuss Kili and Tauriel’s plans, remember?”   
“And who better to help them decide on their first dance,” Galadriel argued, gesturing towards Wednesday.   
“Oh, if that’s what you want, I would be more than happy to help,” Wednesday said, her heart soaring as she looked over at Kili and Tauriel.   
“I...I could use some lessons to be honest,” Kili said, “I have the grace and rhythm of a rhino with two left-feet, no...wait...four?”   
“Do you have somewhere suitable to teach him?” Galadriel asked. Wednesday glanced at Thranduil. In all honesty, she had half-expected him to jump in by now. He nudged her and gave her a confidence-boosting smile.   
“Actually, I have one in the works,” she said, turning back to Galadriel, “Thranduil has helped me get set up with Project Orcrist to open a dance school in Lake Dale. It’s still early stages but I’ll teach Kili in our living room if I have to. Let’s see now, a waltz would probably be the easiest for you to learn, Kili. It’s very simple and a classic wedding dance….” She trailed off as she realised everyone was now looking at her.   
“A dance school?” said Galadriel, “I always wanted to learn ballet when I was little but Lake Dale never had anything like that. I can’t wait to see how Kili does under your tutelage.” Wednesday felt her cheeks flush again

 

*

 

“You know Celebrian and Elrond were making eyes at each other the whole meal, right?” Wednesday asked as Thranduil got into the driver's seat.  
“I beg your pardon?” he said, blinking at her, a perplexed expression on his face. Wednesday laughed.   
“You didn’t see it?” she said, “They’re absolutely cuckoo for each other, I think they just won’t admit it.”   
“Probably because Celeborn would string Elrond up by his genitals if he did anything,” Thranduil spluttered in disbelief, “Are you sure?”   
“I’m certain,” Wednesday was adamant, “She was looking at him like he was the tastiest looking piece of chocolate cake and she wanted to eat him. And he had the same look in his eye as you get, the one where I’m not sure if you’re hungry or horny.”   
“Well, don’t let Celeborn hear you saying things like that,” Thranduil laughed, “Celebrian is his little princess, and Elrond is the new partner in his legal firm. Trust me, it’s a disaster waiting to happen if not handled correctly.”   
“Kind of sweet though,” Wednesday pointed out, “Sweeter than our start anyway.” Thranduil raised an eyebrow as he pulled out of the parking lot.   
“So, are you going to tell me what upset you at work today, or am I going to have to guess?” he said. Wednesday froze.   
“Feren told you?”   
“Yes, and Ruby called me too,” he replied, “She was concerned because she heard you talking in raised voices with someone.”   
“It’s nothing,” Wednesday said.   
“It’s not nothing,” Thranduil said, “Not if it meant you were crying in the shower.” Wednesday looked down at her hands.   
“It was Jude,” she said quietly, “He said some….horrible things about you, about our relationship. He said you were holding me back from my friends, he accused you of causing the bruises on my arm….he….he said I was pathetic for needing you to be happy.” Thranduil slammed on the brakes, prompting a cacophony of horns behind him.   
“He called you pathetic?” he snapped, “Oh, he’s dead when I get hold of him.” His hands tightened on the steering wheel til his knuckles turned white.   
“No, he’s just going to wish he was,” he decided after a moment, “Now listen to me, Wednesday...my queen.” She looked up at that term of endearment, straight into his ice blue eyes.   
“His opinion isn’t worth the oxygen in the breath he delivered it with,” Thranduil said, “It isn’t worth shit. The only opinions about our relationship that matter, are ours, you and I. Do you understand? I couldn’t care less what other people think, not even Legolas, or Tauriel. Our relationship is the best thing that ever happened to me, second only to Legolas being born.” He reached out and took one of her hands in his. He lifted it and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand.   
“Remember that,” he said firmly, “I love you.” Wednesday nodded.   
“Are you really going to make Jude wish he was dead?” she asked softly.   
“I’m going to light a fire under his ass that is going to burn him for a long time,” he said, his voice low and rumbling, “But first, I’m going to take you home, pour you a nice glass of wine….” Wednesday waited with bated breath for the rest of his sentence.

 

“And then I’m going to sit you down with the pile of grant requests you still haven’t finished,” he said, making her groan exasperatedly, “Honestly, woman, you’ve not touched them in a week. Thorin will have a hissy fit if he finds out.” He chuckled as he rejoined the traffic and Wednesday pulled a face that told him, that wasn’t what she had been hoping for.

 

*

 

An hour later, Thranduil was back at Woodland Realm. He still had a lot of work to do, organising meetings with new and current clients, especially the big contracts. Now that he was minus a secretary too, it was going to take even longer to do. But he wasn’t afraid of a little hard work, he’d done this all before, in the early days at least. He took Celebrian’s resume out of his jacket pocket and put it on the top of his to-do pile. He should probably put hunting for a new assistant at the top of the list. He had just seated himself in his big office chair when his computer chimed. A video call was coming through. Celeborn. He answered it, the other man’s face appearing on the computer monitor.  
“Now, don’t tell me you missed me already,” Thranduil joked, “Look, I was about to read Celebrian’s resume…”   
“I need to talk to you,” Celeborn cut him off, “It’s about Wednesday. I think you should seriously consider a pre-nup.”   
“What for?”   
“Thranduil, don’t play dumb with me,” Celeborn snapped, “You barely know this woman, you haven’t even been together a year, and you’ve already popped the question. How do you know you can trust her?”   
“I did a background check on her way back at the start,” Thranduil countered, “She’s always turned down any financial help, plus she knows that I’ve invested almost everything I have with Orcrist.”   
“Thranduil, you still have other assets,” Celeborn warned him, “The cars, the penthouse, the house at Lake Dale, the shares in Woodland Realm, Erebor Holdings and all the other ones you have in your name. Without a pre-nup, she could take them all.”   
“She won’t, I trust her,” Thranduil was beginning to get annoyed.   
“Well, as your attorney, I don’t,” Celeborn said firmly, “The first sign of trouble, she could take you for everything you’re worth.”   
“First sign of trouble,” Thranduil mocked him, “Did you even get my message about Smaug yesterday?”   
“I got it, that’s another thing,” Celeborn said, “I know you put me on this case because you want it pursuing to the fullest extent of the law, but we have a hiccup, another reason I called. Thranduil, I got a call from the detective running the case, the evidence has gone missing.”   
“Missing?”   
“Wednesday’s phone has vanished, there’s no record of it ever being entered into evidence,” Celeborn explained as he watched his old friend get angrier, “Same with the pictures of her injuries. Now, suddenly, Smaug has an alibi for all of yesterday with a judge of all people. He’s paid off the right people to keep out of trouble.”   
“Which makes him all the more dangerous,” Thranduil said, standing up and pushing away his chair. 

He turned and looked out the window at the city.   
“You want me to get the pre-nup because Smaug’s about to turn up the heat,” he said, a statement more than a question.   
“I’m just trying to look out for you, Legolas and Tauriel,” Celeborn said gently, “If Wednesday decides to bail on your marriage, and with Smaug, no one would blame her, you need to protect both your interests.”   
“Draft one,” Thranduil said, sighing and hanging his head, “I’ll think about it.”   
“Thank you for listening to me, old friend,” Celeborn said.   
“Oh, and tell Celebrian, she starts Monday, eight AM,” Thranduil said, glancing back over her shoulder, “Three months probationary, but if she has half of Galadriel’s tenacity and back bone, she’ll go far.”   
“I’ll let her know.”


	34. Let The Games Begin

Wednesday adjusted the strap on her shoe before placing her foot back on the floor and taking a few test steps. Yes, definitely more secure now. She turned back to the mirror and checked her makeup, applying just a touch more powder to her chin. That’s when the yelling started. A hush came over the dressing room at the sound of Jude’s voice coming through the partially open office door.   
“What do you mean I’m no longer the lead in the opening number?!” he screamed.   
“Look, I had no choice,” came Louis’ response.   
“Why?!”   
“Because Woodland Realm threatened to withdraw their investment if you were allowed to keep it,” Louis’ stated. Wednesday’s heart skipped a beat as she remembered what Thranduil had said a few days before.

 

_ I’m going to light a fire under his ass that is going to burn him for a long time. _

 

“What?!” Jude’s continued shouting drew her attention back to the office.   
“Your little stunt with Wednesday,” Louis was starting to sound angry himself, “Why you felt the need to make comments on the relationship between our main investor and his fiancee, I will never know, but you did and he found out about it. Thranduil is furious. He actually wanted you fired.”   
“He can’t do that!”   
“Actually he can!” Louis was shouting back now, “He’s the second largest shareholder after myself, and a good friend. You had no right to say those things to Wednesday, it was completely unprofessional. If he had pulled out, we’d be fucked. I wouldn’t even be able to pay you all your final paychecks. It’s his investment that has kept everything running so far, so next time you get it into your head to call him abusive or manipulating in his private relationships, don’t! Or I will fire you.”

 

Seconds later, Jude stormed out of the office, his face like thunder and his fists clenched. His gaze fell on Wednesday and his mouth opened as if to say something before he thought better of it and headed as far away as possible. Louis stepped out into the dressing room, looking relieved.   
“Colin, you’ll be taking the lead in the opening number,” he said, looking towards the blond-haired male dancer, “Sorry about dropping this on you last minute.”   
“No problem, boss,” Colin replied. Louis then turned his attention to Wednesday.   
“If Jude does anything in retaliation to this, I want you to tell me straight away,” he said softly so only she could really hear him. She nodded.   
“I’m sorry about what happened,” he continued, “His arrogance has reached levels I would never have believed. The moment I gave him the lead, it all went to his head.” Louis pinched the bridge of his nose.   
“Hey, it’s ok,” Wednesday said, gently touching Louis’ arm in a comforting gesture, “It’s not your fault.”   
“I should have opened another strip club,” Louis mused, “Male dancers are the biggest divas I’ve ever known.” He glanced at the mirror Wednesday used for her makeup and smiled. The girls had all decorated them with pictures of family and friends, and Wednesday had one from a couple of weeks before the Firehouse had burnt down. It had been taken on Louis’ birthday. He was in the centre, grinning, his arms around Wednesday and Gloria.   
“I miss it too,” Wednesday said softly, seeing that it had drawn Louis’ attention. Poor guy was out of his depth with an angry Thranduil on his back. He needed a break.   
“Hey, relax, Louis,” Ruby said, interrupting everyone’s thoughts, “It’s my fault Thranduil even found out, plus he’s bringing enough Alpha Male buddies tonight to keep even the biggest diva in check. Jude will piss his pants before he’ll even go near Wednesday.” 

 

Wednesday felt warm suddenly at the reminder that Thranduil was bringing friends along to the opening night. Thorin, Fili, Bard, Dwalin, Celeborn and Elrond were all invited. Elrond had been a last minute addition as both Holly and Tauriel had come down with a vomiting bug and Kili had wanted to stay home to care for them. She was most nervous about her solo number. It wasn’t a dance, but a little performance piece, concocted with Louis and Harry when they had overheard her singing to herself one day after rehearsals. She knew the words to this song off by heart but she had never performed like this in front of people before. She wasn’t an amazing singer, but no one ever complained about her voice. Evan appeared at the other side of the dressing room.   
“Plates are being cleared, boss,” he said.   
“Alright ladies, you have five minutes,” Louis said, “Good luck, and don’t fuck it up.”

 

*

 

The opening number, to Shirley Bassey’s ‘Hey Big Spender’ went off without a hitch, and Wednesday was pleased to see the smile on Thranduil’s face as she danced, even if part of it required her to dance closely with Colin. Colin, she had to admit, was a better dance partner than Jude. Jude tended not to be accommodating towards her slighter build and stature, and expected her to keep up with him as opposed to Colin, who didn’t take huge strides and kept pace with her. The number ended with the lights dropping and thunderous applause filled the theatre. Men and women had come for dinner and a show, and that’s what they were getting. 

 

As soon as she was off stage, Wednesday was hustled away to change costume as Louis took to the stage, looking dapper in his tuxedo. Once in her costume, a gorgeous, twenties inspired, berry red dress, Wednesday slipped out of the dressing room and took her place at the bar, perched on a stool, with Hugh, the other male dancer close by. She glanced over her shoulder and spotted Thranduil, sat in the booth in the exact middle of the room. It was  _ almost _ an exact replica of the booth he used to sit in at The Firehouse, and for a moment she wondered if Louis had had it made especially for him. She could see the others talking and gesturing to him; they looked happy. Bard stood up and started making his way to the bar. Wednesday shifted herself to sit facing to the side as the opening drum roll for her song began. Colin was on stage, the spotlight on him.   
“And now, ladies and gentlemen,” he said, “The keeper of the keys, the countess of the clink, the mistress of murderers row, Matron Mama Morton.” The rest of the instruments joined as the spotlight opened up on a blank stage before swinging through the room to land on Wednesday. She took a final deep breath and began.   
“Ask any of the chickies in my pen,” she sang, the sound of her voice being caught by the small microphone attached to her ear, “They’ll tell you I’m the biggest mother hen. I love them all and all of them love me, because the system works, the system called reciprocity.” The beat picked up again and Hugh helped her off the stool. She began to walk through the crowd, singing as she went.

_ Got a little motto, always sees me through. When you’re good to Mama, Mama’s good to you.  _

 

Bard had stopped in his tracks as he came face to face with Wednesday.

“There’s a lot of favours, I’m prepared to do,” she sang, curling her hand his arm and leaning into him a little, “You do one for Mama, she’ll do one for you.” She ran the back of one finger down his cheek and gave him a grin which he returned, trying not to laugh as she moved on.

“They say life is tit for tat, and that’s the way I live,” she continued her way through the room, “So I deserve a lot of tat, for what I’ve got to give.” She gave her breasts a playful little push from the sides, prompting laughter.   
“Don’t you know that this hand, washes that one too,” she started heading for the centre where she could see Thranduil watching her, “When you’re good to Mama, Mama’s good to you.”

 

_ If you want my gravy, pepper my raggoo. Spice it up for Mama, she’ll get hot for you. _

 

She had never been so thankful for Thranduil sitting on the edge of a booth before as she approached.   
“When they pass that basket, folks contribute too,” she kicked Bard’s empty chair to one side and perched herself on his knee, running one hand along his cheek, “You put in for Mama, she’ll put out for you.” She accompanied the last couple of words with a quick thrust of her chest outwards before gliding off his lap. The look on his face suggested that she had better be prepared to ‘put out’ when she got home. She caught sight of Louis just off stage, crying with laughter. She had made a little more way towards the stage during the instrumental and she spun to face the crowd for her next line.

 

_ The folks a top the ladder, are the ones the world adores. So boost me up my ladder, kid, and I’ll boost you up yours. _

 

She turned and quickly made her way to the stage where Hugh and Colin were waiting for her. She raised her arms up slightly and they took hold of them, helping guide her up the steps as she sang the next line.

 

_ Let’s all stroke together, like the Princeton crew. When you’re strokin’ Mama, Mama’s strokin’ you. _

 

Once at the top, Colin and Hugh made themselves scarce as she took centre stage. Both hands resting on one hip.   
“So what’s the one conclusion, I can bring this number to,” she slowly turned, “When you’re good to Mama….Mama’s good to you.” She quickly undid the fastening of the dress and shrugged it off, revealing a gorgeous vintage underwear set, complete with garter belt, stockings; the kind of underwear she knew just made Thranduil choke on his drink. She turned slightly to the side and gave a playful wink to the crowd at the final notes and the lights went out.

 

She couldn’t believe it, her heart was pounding but she had done it and completed her first performance. Adrenaline was pumping through her and she felt like she could take on the world as she heard the applause from the audience. She grabbed the dress from the floor and hurried off stage before the next number started.   
“Oh, my god, girl, you were incredible!” Ruby exclaimed as she got to the dressing room, “That bit with sitting on Thranduil’s knee, it was so hot.” Wednesday grinned.   
“It felt good, the whole thing,” she admitted.   
“Louis is gonna want you sing every week, they’re loving it out there,” Ruby beamed at her.

 

The rest of the night passed in a blur of music and dancing, and before Wednesday knew it, the lights had gone out at the end of the final number. As she burst into the dressing room with the others.   
“That was amazing,” Ruby said, struggling to catch her breath, “I mean, I could conquer the world right now.”   
“Well, Bard’s out front if you fancy round two,” Wednesday laughed as they made their way to their dressing tables.   
“Pffft,” Ruby scoffed, “Not likely. Not interested in the baggage.”   
“Hey, those kids are wonderful,” Wednesday said, “Don’t call them baggage.”   
“I wasn’t talking about the kids,” Ruby said, “Have you never been in his house? It’s like a freaking shrine to his wife. He has them literally everywhere, living room, kitchen, bedroom.”   
“Bedroom?”   
“Yeah, it felt wrong sleeping in that bed with a picture of her staring at me,” Ruby shuddered as she spoke, “He’s not over her, despite what he says. What about Thranduil? Does he have any pictures of...what was her name?”   
“Laurina,” Wednesday replied, “And no, there’s no pictures of her. Least none that I’ve ever seen. In fact, he had no pictures up anywhere until I moved it. Not even pictures of Legolas and Tauriel. I don’t even know what his wife looked like. The only one I’ve seen him have in pride of place is one of us, on his desk at the office, from the night he told me he loved me.” She glanced at her mirror, the sudden realisation that Thranduil had no visual reminders of anyone in his life a little unsettling. Then she noticed it, a gap on her mirror.   
“Hey, where did the picture of Louis go?”

 

Despite searching, the picture did not turn up. Ruby concluded it must have fallen behind the makeup table, and asked Evan if he could pull it out in the morning and look. He’d assured them he would. Wednesday changed into a simple, comfortable black dress and flats. After dancing in heels all night, she never wore them after work. They headed out to find Thranduil and the others, still lingering although the rest of the guests had cleared out.   
“There they are,” he said when he spotted her heading towards them. He stood up and strode towards her, pulling her into his arms. Wednesday giggled as he tilted her like Colin had in the opening number. He pressed his mouth to hers briefly before standing her back upright.   
“I see you were dancing with someone else tonight,” he whispered in her ear.   
“Yes, you got your way as always,” she replied, fiddling with the lapels on his jacket.   
“Him keeping his job is not me getting my way,” he grunted, “It’s Louis’ ability to find a compromise.”   
“We need three male dancers,” she said, “He couldn’t fire him and find a replacement at such short notice. The show would have been utter chaos.”   
“That’s exactly what he said,” Thranduil said, “Speaking of the show, I loved every minute. You girls are proving you have talent.”   
“Girls?” Ruby said, giving him a look and a slap to the shoulder.   
“Ladies,” Thranduil corrected himself, “Forgive me.”   
“Yes, very talented,” Thorin said, before clearing his throat, “I particularly enjoyed the end of your solo number, Wednesday.” Fili burst out laughing and Thorin grinned.   
“Have I missed a joke?” Wednesday asked.   
“At Bard’s expense,” Thranduil explained, “He was too busy ogling one of the barmaids and missed it.”   
“I’ve heard a different version of it from every one of them,” Bard said, scowling, “Everything from you taking everything off to putting more clothes on, to standing on your head.”   
“Well, I did not stand on my head, I can tell you that much,” Wednesday replied, “In fact, I’m so tired, I don’t think I’m going to be able to stand on my feet much longer.”   
“Allow me to help you with that,” Thranduil said, before quickly scooping her up in his arms, making her laugh as she threw her arms around his neck for support.

 

*

 

“Looks like Legolas is out again,” Wednesday mused as they got out the car back at their building and she noticed the empty space.   
“I think he’s seeing someone,” Thranduil replied, checking his cell phone. Wednesday recalled the bite mark on Legolas’ neck a few weeks back but didn’t say anything.    
“Well, good for him,” Wednesday said, “Is Feren on duty tonight?”   
“No, Galion is,” Thranduil continued, a little distracted. He started walking towards the elevator, without locking it. Feeling a little frisky, Wednesday trotted to catch up with him before slapping his ass.   
“Car,” she said, overtaking him to get to the elevator. He pulled out his keys and locked the car, shaking his head and putting his phone back in his pocket. He joined her in the elevator and pressed the button for the penthouse.   
“Did you really slap my ass?” he asked. Wednesday just laughed as he glared at her. 

 

Next thing she knew, she was shoved up against the wall and his mouth was on hers. His tongue demanded entrance and she granted it.    
“You looked incredible up there,” he whispered when he pulled his lips away briefly, “Did you keep that lingerie on?”   
“Afraid not,” she said, as one hand slid up her thigh under her dress. He grunted in arousal as he found no underwear beneath it. His hips briefly pressed against hers, letting her feel the growing bulge between his legs before he caught her mouth again. His hands wandered, caressing every inch from her thighs, up over her hips and eventually cupping her breasts. All too soon, the elevator dinged. He kept his mouth on hers as he pulled her from the elevator and towards the door. Wednesday had no idea how he managed to unlock the door, get them through it and lock it again without breaking the kiss, but he did. He pushed her up against the wall just inside, a final sweep of his tongue before he dropped to his knees. He ran his hands up her legs, pushing her dress up. Wednesday tried to catch her breath even as her skin felt like fire from his touch. His breath skimmed over her inner thighs and her eyes fluttered shut as he lifted one of her legs over his shoulder.   
“Oh baby…” she managed to get out before she felt his tongue slide along her folds, “Fuck!” He gently probed until he found what he was looking for. He teased her clit with the very tip of his tongue, sending rushes of wet heat and wanting coursing downwards. He pressed his mouth closer to her and lapped at her.   
“Fuck, baby, you’re so wet,” he murmured against her skin before diving back in, his fingers starting to dig into her flesh. Wednesday hands fell to his head, holding him in place, not that he had any desire to be anywhere else. She cried out as he thrust his tongue further inside her, her hips starting to rock in time with his tongue.

 

He pulled away and she whimpered.   
“Don’t stop,” she pleaded.   
“Oh, I’m just trying to decide where I’m going to fuck you,” he assured her, “The table? The couch? The stairs?”   
“I don’t care, just get your cock inside me,” she whined.   
“In that case…” he said softly. He stood, unfastening his pants with one hand before lifting her up and pressing her against the wall. His tip hovered at her entrance.   
“How about here?” he asked. Wednesday cried out as he lowered her onto him. He grunted and cursed as he felt her envelop him, taking him to the hilt. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck as he began to thrust into her.   
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he whispered between kisses, “All snug and warm, all wet, my queen.” Wednesday pushed her tongue into his mouth. That endearment, calling her his queen, always did things untold to her, reminded her of the night he’d allowed her to dominate him, made him pleasure her with his mouth whilst his cock stood to attention, desperate and leaking. The memory of his hand coming up to stroke himself at her command, made her clench around him as her back arched, pressing her chest into him. His pace picked up a little, his prick hitting her sweet spot repeatedly in quick succession. His lips left hers and moved to her ear.   
“What are you thinking of, my queen?” he whispered, she could almost hear the smile on his lips.   
“You, on your knees, touching yourself whilst you eat me out,” she replied. She felt him swell inside her at the thought.   
“Is that what you want?” he asked.   
“Not yet, I want to fuck you senseless on the couch first,” she answered, pushing his shoulders slightly. He pulled out of her and lowered her to the floor, tempted to see where she would go this time if he handed the reins over to her. She pulled him a little closer by his belt and began to undo it, pushing his pants to the floor.   
“No underwear, naughty boy,” she commented as she gently stroked his cock. He let out a long breath through his nose as her hands moved to his jacket and shirt. She undid the buttons quickly and pushed them off his broad shoulders, leaving him nude before her. She reached behind her and lowered the zipper on her dress, letting it fall to her feet. She pressed a hand to his hard stomach, making him step back, out of his clothes and shoes. Her other hand closed around his length, stroking and teasing, making him almost whimper in need for release.

 

The backs of his legs connected with the couch and he dropped to sit on it. She straddled his thighs, rocking her hips back and forth, making him twitch with need before sinking onto him. He let out a roar and his hands gripped the couch.   
“You can hold onto me,” she said and his hands flew to her hips. She could see his eyes focussed on her now exposed breasts.   
“You want to taste them?” she asked, rocking forward slightly.   
“Yes,” he breathed, almost incapable of speech.   
“Say it,” she ordered.   
“Please, my queen,” he said softly, “Please let me taste your gorgeous tits.”   
“You may,” she said. One of his hands moved and cupped her breast as his mouth descended on it. His cock swelled inside her as his tongue wrapped around her nipple and he suckled hard. Wednesday let out a cry and began to move. She had promised to fuck him senseless after all. Her hands gripped the back of the couch as she began to ride him. His mouth released her breast.   
“Oh fuck baby, fuck, yes,” he grunted, “Oh fuck, you feel so good.” His lips closed over her breast again as she rode him harder. She could feel herself starting to tense and the trembles running through Thranduil. At the same time, her legs were beginning to protest the extra work.   
“Fuck,” she grunted, “I need to come. Make me come.” Instantly, Thranduil rolled them over, pressing her into the softness of the couch. He kissed along her breasts and neck before thrusting into her, his tongue thrusting into her mouth at the same time. His hand slipped between them, his thumb rolling her clit, sending her higher and higher. She came with a cry, her back arching off the couch as his lips muffled her orgasm. The sensation of her inner walls undulating around him sent him into bliss, his moans mixing with her cries inside their kiss. His upper body trembled as he fought to keep his full weight off her as they both fought for breath. One arm slid under her waist and he hoisted himself up into a sitting position, bringing her with him, his cock still nestled inside her.   
“Sorry, I couldn’t keep up the whole….” she started.   
“It’s ok,” he said, running his hands through her mussed up hair, “You’ve had a long day. We’ll save that whole me on my knees thing for another day.” He pulled her head down and kissed her.   
“Or maybe for tomorrow morning,” he whispered.   
“I feel like I could sleep for a hundred years,” she said, resting her forehead against his.   
“Then I shall take Sleeping Beauty to bed,” he said, holding her tightly as he stood.   
“I can still walk!” she laughed.   
“Good, because you’re heavier than you look, I don’t think I’ll make it up the stairs,” he laughed too.

 

*

 

Meanwhile, across town….

“So, do I get my money?” Jude asked, “I nearly got fired for this shit!” The man in the chair didn’t turn to face him.   
“C’mon, I did as you asked and now I’ve got Elfking watching me like a fucking hawk,” Jude continued, getting frustrated.   
“The money has been wired into your account,” the chair spun round, revealing a young looking man, with curly dark hair, “If you check on your bank app on your phone, you will see it is more than generous.” Jude opened the app on his phone. The guy wasn’t kidding.   
“It should be sufficient for you to disappear,” he continued, “Which I strongly suggest. This kind of work…” he gestured at the newspaper in front of him.   
“It will draw both Elfking and Durinson’s attention,” he said, “And that not attention to be desired.”   
“Thank you,” Jude said, backing away slowly before running like hell for the door. The man leaned back in his chair and picked up the newspaper, smirking. Elfking and Durinson were in for a rude awakening and a timely reminder of what happened when they refused Smaug.   
“Let the games begin,” he whispered softly to himself.

 

*

 

The sound of the front door slamming woke Wednesday up the following morning. Beside her, Thranduil made a noise and rolled over but didn’t actually wake.    
“Ah, geez,” Feren’s voice floated through the partially open bedroom door, “Where the hell did they do it thi….nevermind, question answered.” Wednesday slid out of bed and retrieved some pyjamas from her dresser.   
“Oh, god, did they do it on the couch?” Legolas’ voice joined Feren’s as she dressed.   
“Unless that damp patch has always been there…” Feren answered him.   
“They’re worse than fucking teenagers,” Legolas sounded disgusted as she left the bedroom and headed for the stairs.   
“I’m not waking them up, they’re going to be naked, and potentially doing it again,” Feren argued.   
“Probably, they’re like rabbits,” Legolas, “And I don’t particularly want to wake my dad up either. Not if he’s…”   
“He’ll be up in a minute if you keep this racket up,” Wednesday said, folding her arms, “What’s all the commotion?”   
“Oh, hey, Wednesday,” Feren said, suddenly hiding something behind his back, “How did last night go?”   
“It was great, what are you hiding?” she asked. Feren glanced at Legolas who shrugged.   
“It affects her too,” he said, “Besides, if she knows, she may be able to break it to my dad a little easier so he doesn’t go around wanting to cut peoples heads off.” Feren sighed and held out the newspaper he had been hiding. Wednesday took it and looked down. There on the front was the picture that had gone missing the night before, the one of her and Gloria, in full stripper regalia on either side of Louis, under a headline that made her heart sink.

 

_ ARKENSTONE CEO IN STRIPPER BABY MAMA DRAMA. _


	35. The Wyrm's Enterprise

Wednesday could feel Thranduil’s eyes boring into the back of her head whilst he spoke to Feren. He was demanding to know the papers source, who had told them about Gloria, her pregnancy and subsequently Wednesday’s former career.   
“Look, boss, I got a hunch on who’s behind this,” Feren said, “But you gotta let me leave, I can’t turn rocks over whilst I’m holed up in here.”

 

_ Arkenstone CEO, Thorin Durinson, aged 45, is to become a father for the first time. A source close to the mother has told how a brief encounter between Durinson and Gloria Shields, aged 27, pictured above, has resulted in Ms Shields becoming pregnant. _

 

“Do what you have to,” Thranduil responsded.   
“I may have to do something on the wrong side of legal if my hunch holds up,” Feren warned.   
“In that case, you get caught…”   
“Thranduil who?”

 

_ Further investigation has revealed that, up until three months ago, Shields was working as a dancer at The Firehouse Strip Club. It is not known if that is where they met.  _

 

The door slammed shut as Feren left and Thranduil’s full attention was back on Wednesday.

 

_ It has been suggested by sources close to both Shields and Durinson that the pair in fact after The Firehouse’s closure due to fire, and were introduced by Shields’ former colleague at The Firehouse, Wednesday McQueen, also pictured above. _

 

That sent a sick feeling straight to Wednesday’s stomach, but other than that, she felt oddly calm, and she knew that’s why Thranduil was watching her. Usually, her heart was on her sleeve, and she would be upset by this, visibly so, and he would come and comfort her. But she didn’t feel upset, she didn’t want his comfort, in fact, if he stayed in the kitchen all day and didn’t come near her, she would have been fine with that. 

 

She set the newspaper down.   
“Do you want a coffee?” Thranduil’s deep voice carried from the kitchen.   
“No, thank you,” she replied, her voice steady as she stared at the picture on the front of the paper. Next to it, Thranduil’s phone started ringing. So far he had two missed calls from Dwalin, three from Gandalf and a text from Bard he still hadn’t read. Now, it was Celeborn.    
“Leave it,” he said as he came from the kitchen and sat next to her. Wednesday shifted an inch or so away from him. He placed a mug in her hands.   
“I don’t….” she started.   
“It’s not coffee, it’s tea,” he said, “You’ve had a shock, something warm and sweet to drink will help.” His phone stopped ringing and he picked it up, swiping away the notifications.   
“I guarantee all they want to say is their piece on what the paper has said,” he said, “And I have no interest in their opinions.” Wednesday said nothing and sipped her tea.   
“Have you heard from Thorin yet?” she asked.   
“Surprisingly, no,” Thranduil replied, “But he’s probably trying to clear this mess up, rest assured.” He leaned in and kissed her hair, but Wednesday didn’t feel the usual rush of warmth his touch and affection usually brought.

 

Her phone started ringing, after remaining silent all morning. It was Gloria. She put her tea down and grabbed it.   
“Gloria, what’s up?” she asked. Sobs came down the phone.   
“Have you seen the paper this morning?” Gloria managed to gasp out.   
“Yeah, we’re trying to find out who leaked this,” Wednesday tried to reassure her friend.   
“Oh, Wednesday, it’s horrible,” she said, “I keep getting phone calls from reporters, wanting to know how far along I am, how I met Thorin, are we in a relationship….they won’t leave me alone, and there’s a whole bunch of them outside my building, waiting for me….I need to go get my prenatal vitamins and I can’t get out.”   
“What has Thorin said about all this?” Wednesday asked.   
“That’s the thing, he’s not answering his phone,” Gloria cried, “It just keeps ringing til it goes to voicemail and it’s been two hours and he hasn’t called me back. Wednesday, I’m scared.” A loud banging noise sounded on the other end. Wednesday could hear a muffled voice.   
“Go away!” Gloria cried out away from the phone, “Weds, they’re knocking on my door now!”   
“Lock it, lock it now!” Wednesday barked, making Thranduil jump.   
“It’s locked,” Gloria said, “Oh, Weds, I’m so scared.”   
“Look, make sure that all doors and windows are locked,” Wednesday said, “I’m going to sort this. Someone will be there soon.” She hung up.   
“Do you know where Thorin lives?” she asked Thranduil. He nodded.   
“Good, we need to go get him,” she said, “He’s not been answering his phone for two hours and Gloria has got reporters literally knocking on her door.”   
“Fuck.”

 

*

 

Thranduil was keeping at least three paces behind Wednesday as she stalked down the hallway towards Thorin’s apartment. She looked calm but her shoulders had been tensed all morning and she felt like a volcano on the verge of eruption, she was just waiting for the snap.   
“Number twenty-three,” his deep voice sounded behind her as they approached the door. She stopped in front of it, pausing to look down at the newspaper she still held in her hand before raising her fist and hammering on the door. Her head tilted towards the door, listening for noise of movement. Nothing. After a few moments later, she hammered on the door again.   
“Thorin!” she bellowed before banging her fist on the door, “Durinson! Open the door now!” She kicked the door for good measure before stepping away, taking a deep breath.   
“Wednesday, maybe you should go back home,” Thranduil suggested as she prowled back and forth in front of the door, “I’ll go get Gloria…”   
“No!” Wednesday spun around to face him, “No! We’re going nowhere just yet.” She turned back to the door.   
“Thorin!” she shouted, practically punching the door this time. 

 

Finally the lock clicked and the door opened, revealing a very confused-looking Thorin dressed only in his boxers and vest.   
“Where the fuck have you been?!” Wednesday snapped, hitting him in the chest with the paper, “Smaug practically declares fucking war, and you don’t answer your phone for two hours! Gloria is going out of her goddamn mind!”   
“What?” Thorin managed in a hoarse voice, backing away slightly.   
“Fucking read this,” Wednesday hit him again with the newspaper and stepping in through the open door. Thranduil followed her. Thorin stared at the front page, at the picture and headline, his eyes widening. Wednesday stomped off down the hallway towards the open door of a bedroom. A cry of surprise came from the bed as she headed for the bedside table. A head of sandy-coloured hair appeared over the top of the duvet as she grabbed Thorin’s cellphone from the table. The screen lit up but the symbol on it told her the phone was on silent and he had several missed calls, all from Gloria.   
“Sorry, Bilbo,” Wednesday’s voice barely softened and she stomped back through the door.   
“Seriously, Thorin, you dumb fuck,” she said, brandishing the cellphone in her hand, “Everything that’s happening, and you put your phone on silent. Did you even look at this yet? You have ten missed calls from Gloria.”   
“How...how did….” Thorin gestured at the paper.   
“We’re trying to get to the bottom of it,” Thranduil said, his eyes never leaving Wednesday.   
“Is that why Gloria has been trying to call me?” Thorin asked.   
“No, she’s calling you because she has reporters literally knocking at her door,” Wednesday snapped, going toe-to-toe with Thorin, despite him having half a foot on her height, “She’s fucking terrified, and she needs you. But you’re more concerned than having a session with your little fuck buddy than being there for the mother of your unborn child.”   
“Wednesday, that’s enough!” Thranduil barked, “I know you didn’t mean that, but think about what you’re saying, dammit! Thorin, don’t worry, we’ll….”   
“No, WE are not going to do anything more,” Wednesday said, “We’ve done enough helping clean up his mess. Thorin, get your ass dressed and get to Gloria’s. Get her out of that building and bring her here. There, that’s it, that’s all the help you’re getting.” Thorin made eye contact with her for the first time, and silently nodded his head, before glancing at Thranduil.   
“You’re right, Wednesday, in one respect,” he said, “With everything going on, I shouldn’t have put my phone on silent. But do not think for one moment, that I put anything above my child. I will deal with this, I promise.”   
“Good,” Wednesday said before heading for the front door. She heard Thranduil apologise to Thorin before following her.   
“Wednesday!” he called after her, “Wednesday, wait!” Wednesday came to a stop by the elevator.   
“What you did just now, was incredibly rude, not just to Thorin, but Bilbo too,” he chided her, “I get that you’re upset but this is not like you.” Wednesday’s chest suddenly started to feel tight, and she felt hot and light-headed.   
“Well, do you have anything to say for yourself?” Thranduil demanded.   
“I don’t feel so good,” she managed to breathe before her vision blurred to black.

 

*

 

_ Beep _

 

_ Beep _

 

_ Beep _

 

Wednesday’s eyes opened slowly. She was laying on a bed, a heart monitor next to her was beeping. She was in a hospital, the familiar smell of bleach in the air. She was reminded of her father’s final days, and how much she hated hospitals.   
“Is she going to be okay?” she recognised Feren’s voice behind her but she hadn’t the strength at that moment to move.   
“They said she’ll be fine,” Thranduil replied, his deep voice providing warm comfort that she hadn’t felt all day, “They called it a neurally-mediated syncope, brought on by the emotional stress of today. They kept her sedated to allow her chance to rest and recover. What did you find out?”   
“Well, I went by Jude’s apartment, it’s completely empty,” Feren continued, “He’s taken off, owing two months rent and utilities, his landlord is beyond pissed. I had a friend of a friend do some digging into his financials. Last night, right after the show finished, he got a massive payment from Wyrm Enterprises.”   
“Smaug,” Thranduil muttered, “Jude must have stolen the picture from the mirror last night. How much did he get?”   
“More than enough, he wouldn’t have made that much money in ten years as a dancer,” Feren said, “My gut told me to dig deeper, so I did.  Boss, Sadie got more than twenty times her annual salary put into her account the morning she tried to seduce you.”   
“Don’t tell me, Wyrm Enterprises again.”   
“You got it.”   
“Fuck,” Thranduil said as he stood. Wednesday could hear him pacing back and forth.   
“What did the paper say?” he asked.   
“A very elaborate plot there,” Feren said, “It was submitted to the editor late last night from an internal email address that didn’t exist five minutes before and has since vanished again. But, because it was an internal email address, the editor didn’t really check it out and submitted it for publishing. It was late, she was tired.”   
“So there’s nothing concrete tying Smaug to the article,” Thranduil asked.   
“No, just the loose connection between Jude and the photo,” Feren said, “Did she really blow up at Thorin?”   
“She said some pretty horrible things, I’d been waiting for her to blow all morning,” he said, “She wasn’t herself. Thorin and Bilbo have taken it pretty well. Thorin text me, he’s been and got Gloria, they’ve decided it would be a good idea for her to move in with him, at least until all this blows over.”   
“That’s got to be an interesting home dynamic,” Feren laughed, “Mom, Dad and Dad’s boyfriend.”   
“Speaking of boyfriends, how goes it with this new one?” Thranduil asked. Feren didn’t reply but Thranduil chuckled.   
“Oh, please, you don’t think I’ve noticed you getting multiple messages from someone called ‘Bae’ with two little hearts after it,” Thranduil continued.   
“It’s...it’s going fine,” Feren said.   
“I’ve never seen you so invested in one before,” Thranduil said, “Normally they’re gone after a couple of weeks, but this one has been around for months. Have you introduced him to your mother yet?”   
“No...no, that’s probably not a good idea,” Feren sounded quieter than usual.   
“Is she getting worse?”   
“You could say that,” Feren said softly, “I tried to come out to her on my last visit but I don’t think she really understood what I was saying. She’s getting more and more confused. She didn’t recognise my cousin, her own sister’s daughter. She thought she was my girlfriend.”   
“I can’t imagine how hard that must be,” Thranduil replied, “Well, you could always introduce him to us, we’re practically family.” Feren laughed sarcastically.   
“Yeah, right,” he said, “No way is that happening.”   
“He hasn’t text you as much today, I’ve noticed,” Thranduil said.   
“I told him that stuff was cracking off with work, and I’d call him once I was done,” Feren explained, “He’s very understanding.”   
“Well, don’t let me keep you lovebirds apart any longer than necessary,” Thranduil said, “You’ve done good work today.”   
“Thanks boss, let me know how Wednesday is in the morning,” Feren said. 

 

Wednesday heard the chairs scrape backwards and the two men headed for the door. Once Feren left, Thranduil closed it before turning around and seeing her eyes open.   
“My love,” he said softly, hurrying to her side and crouching next to the bed, “How do you feel?”   
“What happened?”   
“You passed out,” he explained, “They think it was stress from today. How do you feel?”   
“A little groggy,” she said, “I’m sorry for going off on Thorin.”   
“You were right about him putting his phone on silent,” he said, “It was stupid. But he’s got Gloria with him now, she and the baby are safe.”   
“I shouldn’t have called Bilbo…”   
“It’s fine, trust me,” he said, “Bilbo came rushing out when you collapsed. He checked your pulse and held your hand whilst he called nine one one. If he was offended, I don’t think he would have done that.”   
“It’s a good thing Louis paid me,” Wednesday muttered, her head still a little foggy, “I think I should have enough to cover the bill for this.”   
“Now that’s the Wednesday I know,” Thranduil whispered, “The practical worrier. But do not fret, you have insurance.”   
“No, I don’t,” she protested.   
“Yes, you do, I added you to mine as soon as you moved in,” he said, “I love you, Wednesday.”   
“I love you too,” she said. He smiled and stroked her cheek. 

 

The door flew open and in strode Celeborn, his face like thunder. Thranduil immediately rose to his feet and turned to face him.   
“A stripper, a fucking stripper!” Celeborn snapped, pointing at Wednesday, “You’ve gotten engaged to a gold-digging fucking stripper.”   
“Watch your mouth!” Thranduil retorted, “That is my fiancee you’re speaking about!” Their raised voices causing nurses and orderlies to stare into the room as they passed. Celeborn gritted his teeth before striding over to the bed. He had grabbed Wednesday’s arms and hauled her into sitting up before Thranduil could react. She cried out in pain and immediately Thranduil’s hands grabbed Celeborn’s shoulders and pulled him away from her.   
“The hell do you think you’re doing!” he snarled, shoving Celeborn away, “Don’t touch her!” Celeborn reached inside his suit jacket and pulled out some papers. He threw them on Wednesday’s lap.   
“Sign them,” he growled, “Sign that fucking pre-nup!”   
“What?” Wednesday said, looking at the papers, “Pre-nup?” She looked up at Thranduil.   
“I told you I would think about it,” Thranduil said to Celeborn.   
“She’s a fucking stripper,” Celeborn said, pointing at her again, “She’ll take you for every last cent you have, and you’re too much of a fool to see that.” Thranduil’s fist collided with Celeborn’s jaw, sending the other man crashing to the floor.   
“Get out!” Thranduil bellowed at him, “Get out before I have YOU charged with assault!” Celeborn clambered to his feet and started to leave. Thranduil glanced at Wednesday. He grabbed the papers.   
“And take your fucking pre-nup with you,” he said, shoving them  back into Celeborn’s hands and ejecting the man from the room. He turned back to her, hurrying over and wrapping his arms around her.   
“I’m sorry,” he whispered in her ear, “I’m sorry.”   
“You wanted a pre-nup?” she asked, her voice shaking slightly.   
“No, no, he was the one insisting on it,” he replied, “He said I had to protect what I had. I told him I would think about it, but I don’t want one. I trust you, I have no need for one. I promise.” He kissed her cheek.   
“Thranduil, I want to go home,” she said quietly, “I don’t feel safe here.”   
“Then I’ll go find a doctor and get you discharged,” he said. He leaned in and kissed her forehead.   
“I’m sorry,” he whispered again.

 

*

 

Wednesday was discharged with orders to rest and relax. Thranduil had put her straight to bed, with a cup of tea, before heading back downstairs to give Celeborn a piece of his mind. There had been a great deal of yelling before it had suddenly gone quiet. After silence for over an hour, Wednesday crept out of the bedroom and headed for the stairs. She found Thranduil sat on the couch, his head in his hands. His cellphone lay beside him.    
“Thranduil,” she said softly. He lifted his head, he looked distraught.   
“I just spent an hour talking to Galadriel,” he said, “And I found out why Celeborn acted the way he did.” She moved to sit next to him.   
“A few years ago, Celeborn had an affair,” he explained, “A stripper he met in Vegas. She began blackmailing him and he gave in to her, even continuing the affair. Slowly, it began eating away at their savings, he remortgaged their house, even tapped in to a little of Celebrian’s college fund. Galadriel found out when they didn’t have enough left in their accounts to pay their bills.” He hissed and pinched the bridge of his nose, reaching over and taking her hand in his.   
“That’s why she was so keen to network at what was supposed to be a friendly lunch,” he said, “That’s why Celebrian isn’t going backpacking across South America like Celeborn always talked about, that’s why she has to get a job straight out of college. Because he fucked up, and screwed his wife and family over. They don’t have a pre-nup, so Galadriel can’t divorce him, otherwise he gets half her company, he’s essentially worthless, his law firm is on the verge of bankruptcy. He would ruin her. That’s why he wants us to have one, to protect me.”   
“Maybe we should have one,” Wednesday suggested.   
“Are you planning on leaving me?”   
“No.”   
“Then we have no need of one,” he said, “If this relationship doesn’t stand the test of time, I would want you to have enough to start over.”   
“I wouldn’t need half of everything,” she protested.   
“So what do you suggest?”   
“Maybe we sit down with someone, Elrond maybe?” Wednesday suggested, “And we lay out some guidelines, just in case, and cover different scenarios.” Thranduil snorted.   
“I’m not happy about this,” he said, “But maybe we could talk it over with Elrond. I don’t particularly want to look at Celeborn right now. I’ll call Elrond in the morning.” He leaned in and kissed her gently.   
“Now, back to bed with you.”


	36. Life Is For The Living

Weeks rolled by, and Smaug made no more moves against them, although Wednesday couldn’t shake the feeling it were only a matter of time. They weathered the storm caused by the photos, everyone heeding Thranduil’s warning to keep their opinions to themselves. Feren was now permanently in charge of taking Wednesday to work. Jude’s abrupt departure had caused uproar at the club, Louis used words Wednesday didn’t even realise he knew, but soon a new dancer named Sam was hired. Within days he had all the single ladies in a tither. Handsome, single, Scottish and straight, Ruby had been practically salivating when she heard his accent but he had proven himself professional by not even reacting to the advances, by Ruby or any of the other girls. In the aftermath, Louis had managed to turn the article’s appearance into a good thing. Tickets were sold out for weeks in advance, with Harry encouraging her to sing more, but  _ When You’re Good To Mama _ still proved to be the most popular.

 

Before Wednesday knew it, a milestone was just around the corner. Her thirtieth birthday, the first one she would celebrate with Thranduil. She was excited, but as the day drew closer, Thranduil grew quieter and seemed to almost withdraw from her. He stopped smiling, gave her only the briefest of kisses and intimacy ground to a halt a week before the day. Her excitement waned. She wanted to know if it was something she had done but everytime she tried to say something and he refused to look her in the eye, her courage failed. So she continued as if nothing was amiss. She would press kisses to his cheek and mouth, even if he didn’t respond. She would wind her arm around his waist as they lay down to sleep, even if he didn’t return her touch. She would talk to him about her day, even if he didn’t reply. And each time, she felt her heart break a little more.

 

It was three in the morning, on the day of her birthday, that she awoke to find the bed empty. The covers were tossed back on Thranduil’s side, the sheet beneath it mussed up as if he had been tossing and turning, and it was cold to the touch. She climbed out of bed and headed for the stairs, wondering where he could be. She could hear voices coming from downstairs. Legolas’ was the loudest, he sounded drunk and angry, Thranduil’s voice was barely more than a whisper.   
“And it was you, you who told me not to waste my life on the dead!” Legolas spat as Wednesday slowly descended, trying to remain silent.   
“You told me that I had to move on after Mom died,” the young man continued, “Hypocrite! Every fucking year, I see you sit there and wallow in your misery.”   
“Legolas, I know how you must feel,” Thranduil replied, “But your mother loved you more than life itself, and she wouldn’t have wanted you to mourn her for the rest of your life.”   
“But you can?” Legolas asked, “You can’t even see what you’re doing! You’re pushing Wednesday away! What did she do wrong?!”   
“I know!” Thranduil snapped, “I know she is bearing the brunt of this, but I miss your mother with every beat of my heart, and nothing will ever change that.”   
“So why the fuck did you ask Wednesday to marry you?!”   
“Because I love her!”   
“Not enough apparently,” Legolas snorted. Wednesday heard the sound of a glass bottle being lifted by someone who was more than a little tipsy before being thumped back down.   
“You told me life was for the living,” Legolas slurred, “Wednesday is alive, and it’s her birthday and you’ve decided you’re going to do the same thing today as you do this day every fucking year. Sit on the couch and cry over a woman who no longer cares about your tears. You need to take your own advice, Dad, move on. Wednesday is here, she’s alive and willing to be a part of your life. I’m out of here.” She heard him stumble to his feet and make his way around the couch, bumping into it a couple of times.   
“Legolas, you are in no state to go out,” Thranduil said.   
“Fuck off!” Legolas snarled as he stumbled to the front door, pulling it open and disappearing. Thranduil appeared seconds later, looking at the door his son had just walked out of. Wednesday turned in an attempt to make her escape.

 

“Wednesday.”   
His voice saying her name made her pause, her breath catching in her throat. She turned back slowly. He looked up at her, his profile illuminated by moonlight. He looked as though he were in anguish, his broad shoulders were slumped as if he carried the weight of the world on them. Her heart ached to see him like that.   
“There is something I should have told you before now,” he said softly, holding his hand out to her. The first gesture of intimacy he had initiated in over a week. She took it, savouring the feel of his warm skin beneath hers. He led her down the stairs and drew her in close. Mere millimetres separated them as he ran his hands down her arms before he raised one hand to her cheek. She closed her eyes as the pad of his thumb ran under her lower lip. She shivered and her lips parted slightly.   
“Please forgive me,” he said, his voice shaking, “I have been distant, and you have been so patient.” He leaned and she could feel his breath on her mouth, his nose rubbing against hers. Her eyes stayed closed, waiting for a kiss that didn’t come. Instead he pulled back, taking her hand in his and pulling her towards the couch.

 

She sat down and he sat beside her, angled slightly to face her, their knees touching.   
“I should have told you this long ago,” he said, clasping both of her hands in his, his thumbs tracing patterns on the backs of them. He took a deep breath and glanced at the coffee table. Wednesday followed his gaze and saw a photo album, stuffed with pictures and cards and various bits and pieces.   
“Your birthday happens to be the day my wife died,” he said slowly. Realisation dawned on her. He had been conflicted this whole time. Torn between celebrating her birthday and honoring his wife’s memory.   
“Oh, Thranduil,” she said, shifting closer to him and holding his face in her hands, “Why didn’t you say something?”   
“I thought that this year, it would hurt less,” he said, “It still hurts, my heart still feels heavy and….” She cut him off with a gentle kiss. His hands lifted and cupped the back of her head as he returned it, pulling her closer, his lips moving against hers. The world felt like it was tilting beneath her. It wasn’t until she felt his weight against her chest that she realised it was because Thranduil has begun to lean into her, easing her onto her back. He pulled back suddenly, his chest heaving as he stared down at her.   
“Legolas was wrong,” he whispered, “If I was still truly in love with Laurina, I wouldn’t have….” He stopped, swallowing and sitting up.   
“It is alright,” Wednesday said, “And it’s alright to miss her. She was your wife, the mother of your firstborn. But Legolas was right that life is for the living, mourning her like this will not bring her back.”   
“What can I do?” he asked, looking lost.   
“Talk about her,” she suggested, “Tell me, why do you have no pictures in the house?”   
“Because it reminds me of my past, of what I have lost,” he said quietly before leaning over taking the picture album from the table, “I took all of them down after Legolas left.” He leaned back into the couch, the album on his lap. Wednesday turned to sit next to him, pressed into his side as he slid one arm around her shoulders.

 

He opened the album to the first page. On the front was a black and white picture of an infant, wearing only a cloth diaper, a faint covering of light hair on their head.   
“Is that you?” Wednesday asked.   
“Yes, how did you know?” Thranduil asked, looking at her.   
“This is going to sound silly,” she said, blushing, “But I tried to picture what a baby of ours would look like once, and it was almost identical.” He smiled at her.   
“Bare that in mind,” he said, turning the page, “Ah! Here we go, Thranduil Oropher Elfking, born March eighteenth, the spring equinox.” He pointed at a piece cut from a newspaper, a birth announcement his parents had placed.   
“These are my parents,” he said, pointing to a picture on the next page. A man and a woman, both with long blond hair were grinning, a toddler-aged Thranduil between them, wearing blue-and-white striped dungarees and chewing on his fist.   
“Oropher and Eleniel Elfking,” he said, “My mother passed away when I was a teenager, she had cancer, my father passed less than a decade ago.”   
“You look like your father,” Wednesday said, “But you have your mother’s nose.” Thranduil nodded.   
“I am taller than him though, he barely scraped six foot,” he said, “But my mother’s father, he was very tall, taller even than me.”   
“Wow, was he a giant?”   
“That’s the rumour,” Thranduil laughed, turning the page again, “Ah, first day of school, you see that young scallywag there?” He pointed to a boy with dark hair.   
“That’s Bard,” he said, “And that’s the back of Thorin’s head.” He tapped a figure in the background.   
“And that’s Dís,” he pointed to a young girl, “And that’s Laurina.” He pointed at a girl stood just on the edge of the picture. She had blonde hair, more yellow than Thranduil’s, the same rounder face shape that Legolas had. Her knees were filthy as were the frilly ankle socks she wore.   
“She was always caked in mud when we were children,” he said, “She loved digging, and gardening, and animals. I once told her, I couldn’t remember what colour her skin was, there was always a layer of dirt on it.” Wednesday laughed.

 

He flicked through more pages, each one filled with pictures of him, slowly growing older and older, and more familiar. She was soon able to pick him and Bard and the others out on sight. He stopped on one. He looked about Legolas’ height, about the age of fifteen, dressed in a black suit with a long dark coat on top. His head was slightly angled, looking down, his long hair blowing in the breeze.   
“That was the day of my mother’s funeral,” he said, “Thorin’s cousin, Nori, took this. In fact, there’s another one he took in here.” He flicked forward a couple of pages.   
“There,” he said. In the photograph, Wednesday recognised him, stood at the end of the driveway of the lake house with a young blonde woman; the picture looked like it had been taken from the front door. Judging by the streak of dirt down one of the woman’s legs, it was Laurina. She was beautiful, her cheeks a rosy shade of pink, her eyes fixed on Thranduil. His expression was a mixture of shock and happiness and, as Wednesday scanned down the picture, his hand was pressed against her belly.   
“She had just told me she was pregnant,” he said, “I had thrown a house party because my father was out of town. She hadn’t been feeling well so I was surprised when she turned up. She took me to the end of the driveway, away from the noise and she told me, she was having my baby.” He traced her cheek with his finger.   
“A baby who is currently off somewhere, pissed out of his skull,” he muttered.   
“Legolas is an adult now,” Wednesday reminded him, “He’ll be fine. He’s probably just fallen asleep in the elevator anyway.” Thranduil nodded.   
“I miss her,” he said softly, “She….she had this way of taking care of things without me even noticing. Like, our health insurance was about to lapse, she set up another one. I forgot to pay the electric bill, she wrote the check and made me sign it. I worked for eight hours straight, she brought dinner to me...I suppose, she was a lot like you. She wanted to look after the people she loved.”   
“I will take that as the greatest compliment you have ever paid me,” Wednesday said.   
“You are different from her in some regards,” he said, “Don’t ever think I asked you to marry me because you’re exactly like her.”   
“I wasn’t thinking that,” Wednesday said, snuggling in closer to his side as he turned over to another page.   
“Ah, now this is what I was talking about,” he said, “Behold a newborn Legolas Thranduil Elfking.” Wednesday looked at the picture he was touching. An infant, identical to the picture of himself, though this time in colour.   
“Wow, he was identical to you,” she said, “Very cute.” She looked at the other pictures. Younger versions of Thranduil holding Legolas, some of Laurina who was practically beaming with happiness as she held her newborn son. 

 

Thranduil flipped the page, and something changed. The familiar background of his childhood home and images of newborn Legolas disappeared. Legolas appeared older and the background changed from clean wood to dingy, peeling wallpaper.   
“This was after you fell out with your father,” she said softly, recalling a conversation long ago, “And you moved here.” Thranduil nodded and continued to turn the pages, pointing out specific images here and there. They looked happy, the little family of three. Legolas had a enormous grin on his face in every single one. Images of a young red-headed girl appeared intermittently with her parents.   
“Tauriel,” he said after a moment, “Her parents got in touch when they moved here too. She and Legolas were nigh on inseparable.” He hesitated on turning the next page, his fingers shook slightly. His breath had hitched and Wednesday suspected they were almost nearing the day he lost Laurina. When he finally turned it, the first image that Wednesday saw was a pregnancy scan; she had been pregnant, Wednesday recalled, he’d lost both his wife and their unborn child. His fingers stroked the scan reverently. She looked up at him and saw the tears rolling down his cheeks. She lifted herself up and kissed them away.   
“It’s okay,” she whispered, “It’s okay.”   
“I lost them both,” he said, his breath catching in his chest as his shoulders shook, “I lost them both.” Wednesday shifted and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into her embrace.   
“It’s okay,” she repeated, “I’m here.” His body shook as he sobbed and Wednesday felt her heart break for him. His fingers still clasped the scan picture but she lifted the photo album from his lap and put it back on the coffee table. She wrapped her arms back around him and shifted to lay down, bringing him with her.   
“I shouldn’t have left her,” he sobbed, “I should have stayed with her. I lost her, I lost them both.” He lay with his head on her chest and Wednesday stroked his hair and tried to soothe him. She knew he was just babbling out of hurt and once he got it all out, he would feel better. 

 

She must have drifted off because she woke when he lifted her from the couch, holding her as tenderly as she had held him.   
“Thranduil,” she said, her voice hoarse.   
“It’s alright, I’m just taking you back to bed,” he replied. His eyes were still a little puffy from crying but he seemed more himself. He rested his cheek against the top of her head as he carried her up the stairs and into their bedroom. He settled her back in their bed and she shivered. It had gone cold.   
“Don’t worry,” he said, kissing her forehead, “I’ll be back to warm it up in a moment.” He pulled away and headed back down the stairs, returning a few minutes later with the photo album, sliding the scan back inside and putting the whole thing in the bottom drawer of his bedside table. He slid back under the covers, wrapping an arm over her waist and pulling her in against him.   
“If you ever want to talk about her, you can talk to me,” she said softly, running her hand along his arm, “But please, don’t ever shut me out like that again.”   
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, “I won’t.” He kissed the back of her head and squeezed her tight.

 

*

 

Wednesday could feel his strong hands running down her thighs, his fingers pressing gently into her flesh as they went. His warm breath fluttered across her skin followed by the gentle press of his lips. She sighed happily as it was followed by more gentle kisses along the tops of her thighs and across her stomach.   
“Wednesday,” he moaned, gently pressing her legs apart as he nuzzled the flesh between them. She briefly wondered how and when he had removed her pyjamas but all thoughts fled her mind when he ran his tongue along her folds. She gasped, her hips tilting up to follow his mouth.   
“Oh, my darling, I have neglected you,” he whispered before licking her again, thrusting his tongue into her heat, “How could I forget how sweet you taste?” Wednesday could feel her bones practically melting at his words.   
“There’s nothing to forgive,” she breathed, weaving her fingers into his hair as he lapped at her.   
“Oh, but I could drown in you,” he muttered before flicking his tongue across her clit. She made a soft sound of amusement.   
“I’m not joking, love, you’re soaked down here,” he chuckled, making her laugh, “Quick, someone throw me a life preserver!” Wednesday’s whole body began to shake with laughter as his hands moved to link his fingers with hers before plunging his tongue as far into her as he could. She let out one long, keening moan, her legs lifting to rest over his shoulders. His focus shifted, drawing his tongue back up to her clit and swiping it from side to side. He groaned in appreciation as another rush of wetness gushed into his mouth. She felt the familiar spasms as her orgasm drew closer.    
“Thranduil,” she sighed his name as one of his hands withdrew from hers. It brushed along her inner thigh before one finger slid inside her. She yelped and her back arched as he began to thrust his hand against her. She moaned, thrusting her hips to meet his hand as he added a second finger.   
“Fuck!” she cried, hips bucking into him as he curled his fingers, the tips caressing her sweet spot each time. She cried out, desperate to meet her release.   
“Oh, fuck, baby,” Thranduil moaned between her legs, flicking her clit again before pulling away.

 

He reared up on his knees, his cock sticking out proudly. He grabbed her ankles and pulled her closer. He dropped his weight onto his elbows and kissed her, his tongue immediately demanding entrance. She opened up for him, tilting her hips at the same time, trying to draw him into her.   
“Do you want me?” he growled low against her lips.   
“Yes,” she panted, “Yes, I want you. I need you.” He drew one of her knees up over his hip, opening her up to him, slowly beginning to sink into her. She quivered in pleasure, at the feel of his hard member penetrating her. His hips thrust into her a couple of times, eliciting a few pleasure-filled cries from her. He stopped, resting his forehead against hers.   
“Do you want to marry me?” he asked, his smooth, deep voice causing another rush of arousal, coating him and both their thighs.   
“Yes,” she whimpered. He lifted her other leg up to his hip, running his hand along the length from ankle to hip.   
“And do you want everything that goes with that?” he murmured. He lifted the leg up so it was hooked over his arm. She gasped as he penetrated a little deeper. He did the same with the other leg, opening her up until the head of his cock hit her cervix. He began to thrust.   
“Do you want to stay by side forever?” he whispered.   
“Yes,” she whimpered again, feeling herself clench around him.   
“Do you want to sleep in my bed every night and wake up next to me every morning?” he said.   
“Oh, god, yes,” she cried, feeling her muscles coil in anticipation of the orgasm that loomed over her.   
“Do you want to have my babies?” he growled, his pace increasing, “Do you want me to make you nice and round with them? Get you nice and fat?” His cock pounded into her over and over until she was screaming his name.   
“Yes, Thranduil! Yes!” she screamed, the tension within her snapping and she clamped down on him like a vice. He cursed over and over, his movements becoming choppy as she spasmed wildly around him.   
“Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck!” he cried, slamming his hips into her as he released deep within her. The hot rush within her made her back arch and he took one hardened nipple in his mouth, suckling on her as he trembled within her. He shifted his weight onto one arm, the other hand slipping between them to play with her clit.   
“Do it again,” he whispered, “Come for me again!” It didn’t take much to send Wednesday catapulting into a second orgasm, the slap of damp flesh on flesh more than enough to push her over the edge.

 

He rolled to the side, keeping her drawn in close to him, his cock still lodged inside her as his tongue engaged hers in its own recreation of the act of love. A faint sheen of sweat covered their skin as they fought to regain both their breath and the blood flow to their heads. They lay entwined, a tangled mass of limbs and tongues until at last Thranduil pulled back enough to rest his forehead against hers and whisper, “Happy birthday, my queen.”


	37. Fire And Flame

“I don’t think I can do this,” she whispered, sinking into Thranduil’s big, comfy office chair.    
“It’s a bit late for cold feet now,” Thranduil said, leaning around the back to kiss the side of her head, “They’ll be in the boardroom already.”   
“But, what if they don’t want a former stripper teaching their kids ballet?” Wednesday asked, clinging to his arm, “What if they don’t think my pitch is good enough? It will mean all of this work for nothing!”   
“You cannot think like that,” Thranduil said, managing to slide his arm free from her grip and turning the chair so she faced him, “Wednesday, I used to watch you dance at The Firehouse, and you commanded the attention of every man in that place. If you have half that level of confidence today, you will win these investors over, I promise you.”   
“I felt confident back then, because I felt sexy and powerful,” Wednesday said, “I don’t feel like that today.”   
“Why?” Thranduil asked, smirking a little, “Did I not perform to my usual standard this morning?” Wednesday flushed.   
“No, I think the screaming orgasm was proof that this morning was more than up to scratch,” she said, “But that was several hours ago and now I’m about to face a room full of people, some of whom I’ve never met, and all they know of me is from that blasted article!” She slumped back in the chair and covered her eyes with her hands. Thranduil looked her up and down. The newspaper article still haunted her; her semi-naked image on the front page for all to see. But today, she didn’t look like the stripper in the photograph. She looked so prim and proper with just a hint of sex appeal. A smart black pencil skirt that followed the curve of her hips, a white blouse with elaborate ruffles around the neckline drew attention to her bust, her makeup was subtle but still looked like she had made an effort. He thought she looked sexy, but it didn’t matter what he thought; it was how she felt. He crouched down in front of her and ran one hand down her calf. He slid it back up again, his thumb stroking her flesh as it went. He did the same with the other leg, moving both hands up simultaneously to slip under the hem of her skirt.   
“What are you doing?” she asked   
“Making you feel sexy,” he said, sliding his hands further up her thighs as he leaned forward and kissed her. 

 

He started off slow, gentle brushes of his lips against hers until she was leaning in to his kiss. Then he swiped his tongue across her lower lip. She sighed and opened her mouth as his hands skimmed up her thighs. He angled his head to kiss her deeper, their tongues tangling wildly as his fingers found the edges of her soft satin panties. He growled into the kiss as he began to pull them down. Wednesday made small noises of protest but didn’t actually break the kiss. He slid them down her thighs and over her knees quickly, whipping them off over the smart court shoes she wore.   
“What are you doing?” she asked again as he rose and pulled her from the chair. He turned her to look out of the windows, their backs to the office door. He nipped her ear and smirked in satisfaction at the sight of her kiss-swollen lips parting.   
“Just think,” he whispered, “In a few moments, you are going to walk out in front of those investors with no panties on.” He heard her breathing hitch.   
“And if I had my way,” he continued, “I’d be sending you out there, full of my cum. Do you remember the night you danced like that?”   
“Yes,” she smiled, “The day we has sex in the dressing room, surrounded by designer dresses.”   
“You looked so fucking beautiful that night,” he said, “And you’re going to be just as beautiful today. I fully expect to be having to tell my business partners to pick their jaws up off the floor, and put their eyes back into their sockets. Because you are going to go out there, pantyless, and knock them dead.”   
“And where exactly will my panties be during all this?” she asked, locking eye contact with his reflection.   
“In my pocket, in between my fingers,” he answered. She whimpered slightly, pressing her rear back into his groin. He grunted.   
“I’d bend you over the desk,” he whispered, “If I didn’t think….” 

 

A knock came at the door. He growled and pulled away, quickly pocketing her underwear.   
“Come in,” he said clearly. The door opened and Celebrian half-stepped in.   
“They’re ready for you,” she said brightly.   
“Thank you, Celebrian, we’ll be down in a minute,” he replied, “Ready, my queen?” He whispered the last three words in Wednesday’s ear, just enough to send shivers down her spine. His fingers entwined with hers and he led her towards the door. Celebrian waited by the elevator for them, still smiling brightly. She had taken to her new job like a duck to water, improving even on Sadie’s system. Thranduil had done nothing but sing the young woman’s praises. She worked hard, coming in early and staying late as needed until she had finished her work. Wednesday was thankful for her dedication as much as Thranduil was. It meant he was home early most days, they could have dinner together, enjoy a glass of wine, chat and relax with each other.

 

Celebrian bounced a little on the balls of her feet as the elevator descended.   
“I think it’s really cool that you want to open a dance school in Lake Dale,” she said after a moment, “I remember spending a few summers with my grandparents there and thinking it was so boring.”   
“Maybe I should consider doing a summer programme for visitors,” Wednesday mused, looking up at Thranduil.   
“Can’t hurt,” he said, “Bard did mention that there’s a large influx of children and teenagers every summer. They come to visit family but there’s little in the way of entertainment for them.” The elevator stopped and the doors opened. Celebrian led the way down the corridor to the large board room being used for the investors meeting. Dwalin was waiting by the doors.   
“Wow, Dwalin, you scrub up well,” Wednesday said as she took in the clean suit and polished shoes he wore.   
“Aye, well, I didn’t think your good man here would appreciate me muddying up the place in me boots,” Dwalin joked, “Now, I’ve got me quote here, I even included a step-by-step breakdown of it. Give them plenty to chew o’er.”   
“That’s amazing, thank you,” Wednesday said, “And thank you for coming with me.”   
“Nonsense, I’m ya builder and I need these buggers to say yes just as much as ye,” he replied, “Especially since I just took on three more labourers.”   
“I’ll see you in there,” Thranduil said softly, squeezing her hand and kissing her cheek before pulling away.   
“Cele….sorry, what was your name again?” Dwalin asked Celebrian.   
“Celebrian, you can call me Bri for short though,” she answered.   
“Aye, Bri, could you pop a copy of this in each of the investors informations?” Dwalin said, handing over a stack of papers.   
“With pleasure,” she replied, taking the stack, “Wow, this is either a lot of detail or this is a bigger project than I realised.”   
“A bit o’both really,” Dwalin said, “Thanks, Bri.” Celebrian disappeared through the door, a low hum of voices coming through the open door.   
“Are you alright, lass?” Dwalin asked, “You’ve gone a wee bit pale.”   
“Just nerves,” Wednesday said, starting to pace a little.   
“Nervous about standing in front of a bunch of suits?” Dwalin laughed, “I would have thought after shaking your tatas night after night, this would be a walk in the park for ye! Very nice tatas they are too judging by that picture from the paper.” Wednesday shot him a look.   
“You know if Thranduil hears you talking about my breasts…”   
“They will be my dying thought,” Dwalin said, “I know, I know, the lad wouldn’t take kindly to it. I meant no harm.” Celebrian re-emerged.   
“They’re ready for you,” she said softly, stepping back and holding the door open. Wednesday glanced at Dwalin.   
“After you,” he said. She took a deep breath and stepped through the door.

 

Thranduil and Dwalin had been right. Although she had been nervous to start with, Wednesday found her confidence when she began addressing the room. Balin’s friendly smile and an encouraging wink from Legolas had started her off but she felt a surge of feeling powerful when she spied Thranduil’s fingers casually toying with her underwear in his pocket, a brief glimpse of the light blue satin peeking out. She had pressed her legs together and held her head up a little higher, her shoulders a little straighter. She had her presentation memorised word for word, she remembered the figures and statistics she and Thranduil had carefully researched at the drop of a hat, and she spoke of her training and history as a dancer with passion. Even the few people she didn’t know, some of the other shareholders in Woodland Realm, and a few from Oakenshield, seemed to be won over. They asked their questions at the end, and she answered them, explaining that they could open in the new year, barring any major construction problems with the old community centre. One of Thorin’s cousins, Gloin, quibbled over some of the pricing Dwalin had drawn up, but that had been the only time Dwalin had needed to stand up and speak. His work was thorough and left little to be questioned. He reminded Gloin that quality came at a cost, and that in the long run, the extra cost now would save Wednesday more in the future. 

 

“Well,” Gandalf said after Dwalin sat back down, “I believe we have all the information we need. Do we need to discuss anything or…” He looked around at the rest of the table. They flicked through the notes they had been taking and all of them shook their heads.   
“So, we are in agreement? We are happy for Ms McQueen to go ahead with her dance school?” Gandalf asked. Everyone nodded.   
“Congratulations Wednesday,” the old man smiled as he spoke, “Dwalin, you may begin work as soon as you are able, the funds will be released within the next few days.” He stood up and held a hand out to Wednesday. She fought the urge to squeal and shook his hand instead, the biggest smile spreading across her face. One by one, the other investors stood up and shook hands with Wednesday and Dwalin until only Fili, Kili, Legolas, Thranduil and Thorin were left. 

 

Wednesday practically leapt into Thranduil’s arms. Her arms wrapped around his neck.   
“You did it, well done,” he whispered in her ear, “That wasn’t so hard was it?”   
“Only because Dwalin did such a good job on his part, and because you helped me put that whole presentation together,” she said.   
“Nonsense, you charmed the pants off of them,” he said, leaning back, “And ignore Gloin, he’s not happy about his money unless it’s sitting in his bank account. Honestly, arguing about the addition of a handicapped toilet was just being petty.”   
“Aye, well, as soon as I step out this building, I’m no longer seeking his investment but my hand seeking his ear,” Dwalin said, “I best go, Balin doesn’t like driving home in the dark, and I left Bard in charge of locking up the merchants.”   
“Thank you again, Dwalin,” Wednesday said.   
“No worries, lass,” he said, “I’ll let you know when we start work and we’ll arrange you coming down to check on progress.” He shook Thranduil’s hand and left.   
“I think today warrants a special celebration,” Thorin said, “How about dinner tonight? My treat, at Quinzell’s.”   
“As generous as a free meal at a Michelin-star restaurant is, I already have plans for tonight,” Fili said, “Kee?”   
“Galadriel’s coming over to talk wedding planning,” Kili replied, shrugging.   
“You don’t need to be there for that,” Fili said.   
“I actually like being involved,” Kili protested, “I only plan on getting married once so I would like to give my opinions.”   
“Suit yourself,” Fili said, “We’ll see you tomorrow, Uncle.” He and his brother left.   
“Legolas?” Thranduil asked.   
“Actually, I’m pretty beat,” Legolas said, rubbing the back of his neck, “I’ve been burning the candle at both ends, working on the Dale Crafts website, so I may take the opportunity to get an early night.”   
“You have been working very hard,” Wednesday said, “Well, enjoy the peace and quiet, we’ll try not to make too much noise.”   
“I’ll keep the noise-cancelling headphones on stand by,” Legolas joked.   
“Looks like it’s just we three then,” Thorin said, “Gloria’s been very tired recently and unless it’s pickles and ice cream, she can’t stand the smell of food so going out to eat is probably her idea of hell right now.”   
“Probably,” Thranduil agreed, “I remember Laurina couldn’t stand the smell of coffee until Legolas was six months old.”   
“We’ll meet there for about seven?” Thorin said, gathering his files from the table, “Gives you a couple of hours to give Wednesday her knickers back.”  Thranduil bit his lower lip as the other man left to stop from laughing. The door shut and he let it out, throwing his head back.   
“Oh god, how did he know?” Wednesday said, feeling her cheeks turn red.   
“He must have seen them poking out of my pocket,” Thranduil chuckled, “Come, now, don’t be embarrassed. You absolutely killed this meeting, you secured your investment and now you’re one step closer to your dream.” He smiled and lifted her chin to look her in the eye.   
“I love you,” he said softly.   
“I love you too.”

 

*

 

“To the Wednesday McQueen School of Dance,” Thorin said, holding up the champagne glass.   
“Cheers,” Thranduil agreed and the three of them clinked their glasses together and took a sip.    
“Or will it be Wednesday Elfking?” Thorin asked, as she lowered her glass.   
“I personally think Wednesday McQueen sounds better,” Thranduil offered. Wednesday nodded.   
“I do as well,” she said, “Though everything else will change to Elfking one day.” She smiled at Thranduil who returned it.   
“A day I look forward to,” he said, “Though, I have had Galadriel on my back about our plans.”   
“How do you mean?” she asked.   
“Laurina and I were married in front of a judge, a hasty affair immediately after her eighteenth birthday, when she was heavily pregnant,” he explained, “Galadriel believes this time, it needs to be bigger, a ‘proper wedding’ were her exact words. I explained the cost of Orcrist to her but she was already planning it for us.”   
“I don’t care, so long as I have you,” she said, reaching out and taking his hand. The sound of Thorin’s cell phone interrupted the moment.   
“Apologies,” he grumbled, reaching into his pocket, “It’s Gloria.”    
“Answer it,” Wednesday said as he hesitated. He answered the call.   
“Gloria, is everything alright?” Thorin asked, “Whoa, whoa, slow down, what did you say? Channel six? Hang on.” He stood up and started marching over to the bar. Wednesday followed with Thranduil close behind, curious to what had Gloria calling Thorin.

 

“Can I get you something sir?” the bartender asked as Thorin approached.   
“Yes, that little portable television you have in the glass wash, bring it out here,” he said, phone still to his ear.   
“Sir?” the bartender said, looking a little confused.   
“Get it now!” Thorin barked. The bartender vanished for a moment, before returning, face red at being caught with something, no doubt, his superiors had forbidden. In his hands, he carried an old, portable television; one where you could still change the channel on the actual set.   
“Put it on channel six,” Thorin ordered. The bartender changed the channel. Wednesday’s heart plummeted and her stomach flip-flopped. On the screen was a live feed of a burning building, the top floor had thick smoke pouring from the windows. It was their building, their apartment on fire.   
“Oh my god,” she squeaked, her hands flying to her mouth.   
“Legolas,” Thranduil breathed behind her, “Legolas is in there.”


	38. Her King

Thranduil must have broken every speeding law between the restaurant and their building. The smoke got thicker and thicker as they got closer. The car had barely stopped before Thranduil leapt out the door. A police officer at the barrier tried to stop him, giving Wednesday time to catch up.   
“I’m sorry, sir, you need to stay back!” the cop said.   
“My son is in there!” Thranduil yelled. The doors to the building suddenly opened and two firefighters appeared, carrying someone between them. Long blond hair, long limbs; it was Legolas. His skin was mottled black from the smoke with patches that were red and raw. Two medics hauled ass over from their ambulance with a stretcher as the firefighters laid him out on the ground.   
“Legolas!” Thranduil cried out, trying again to fight his way past the officers. Wednesday grabbed his arm, trying to calm him as one medic put an oxygen mask over Legolas’ face and the other took his pulse.   
“That your son?” the officer asked. Thranduil nodded.    
“Right, go on through, just don’t get in the way of them doing their jobs,” he said. He let Thranduil and Wednesday through.

 

Unsurprisingly, Thranduil got to the ambulance first.    
“I’m his father,” he explained when the female medic shot him a questioning look.   
“Okay, what’s his name?” she asked.   
“Legolas.” She turned back to Legolas’ form as they prepared to lift him into the ambulance.   
“Legolas, can you hear me?” she said, “Legolas, your dad is here.” Legolas’ hand raised slightly before dropping back down.   
“I’m here son, you’re going to be okay,” Thranduil said, a softness in his voice that Wednesday didn’t hear very often, his gaze fixed on Legolas.   
“Do you want to come with us?” the medic asked Thranduil. He turned to glance at Wednesday.   
“Go, I’ll make my own way,” she said, “Take care of Legolas.” He nodded, climbing into the ambulance after his son. The medic slammed the doors shut, the siren blared into life and sped away.   
“Excuse me, are you his family?” a voice behind her spoke. 

 

Wednesday turned to find a firefighter, covered head to toe in black soot standing behind her.   
“Yes, the man you pulled out is my stepson,” she said.   
“He was holding on to these when we found him,” the man said, “He refused to let go of them.” He held in his hands a sooty towel. He unwrapped it revealing Thranduil’s photo album and two framed pictures. They were a little soot-covered, but the towel had kept them mostly clean.   
“Thank you,” Wednesday said, taking the items, “And thank you for saving him.”   
“You’re welcome, ma’am,” he said, “Do you need anything? A lift to the hospital?”   
“Wednesday!” Thorin’s voice boomed over the gathered crowd.   
“I think my ride just got here,” she replied.   
“He’ll be fine, you know,” the man reassured her, “He’s a smart guy. Someone taught him what to do to survive, we found him in the pantry. He used towels to keep the smoke out.”   
“That’ll be his dad,” Wednesday mused, trying not to picture Legolas, scared and alone, trapped by the fire.   
“Thank you, again,” she said, before turning towards the crowd when Thorin and Bilbo were waiting for her.   
  


“Well, was Legolas in there?” Thorin asked as she approached. She nodded.   
“They’ve taken him to the hospital,” she said, hearing her voice shake. Bilbo reached out and took the album and picture frames from her as her hands started to shake too.   
“Come on, let’s get you in the car and sat down,” he said gently. Thorin put an arm around her shoulders, guiding her through the crowd towards his car.   
“Ms McQueen!” a voice shouted. She looked over and saw an unfamiliar man holding a recording device. Next to him was a man with a camera.   
“Fuck, reporters and paparazzi,” Thorin growled, picking up speed.   
“Ms McQueen, is it true that Mr Elfking’s son was just pulled out of the fire?” the man continued, “Is he seriously injured?”   
“Ignore them,” Thorin warned in a low voice, “Fucking vultures.”   
“Ms McQueen!” a voice came from the other side of them. Thorin picked up the pace.   
“They found him in the pantry,” she said quietly and felt Thorin’s grip tighten, “He’d shut himself in and blocked the gap under the door.”   
“It’s alright,” Thorin reassured her, “He’s a strong lad, he’ll survive.” Gloria was waiting by the car, worry etched across her face.   
“Get back in the car, we’re going to the hospital,” Thorin said as they approached. Gloria nodded as she spotted the reporters following them. She climbed in to the front passenger seat. Thorin helped Wednesday into the back seat before getting in to the driver’s. Bilbo joined Wednesday as Thorin started the car. She glanced at the items he held, in particular the photo frames. The top one held a picture of a young Legolas with his mother.   
“That must have been one of the last ones of him and Laurina,” she mused, “No wonder he wanted to save it.” Bilbo lifted the bottom one out into view and Wednesday’s heart skipped a beat. This was not one of Legolas’ treasure memories, or Thranduil’s. It was one of hers. The last picture of her and her father before he was admitted to hospital, never to be released again. They were smiling, happy.   
“Dad,” she breathed, reaching out and taking hold of the frame. It had been sat on her bedside table.   
“He saved this for me,” she whispered, “Why?” Thorin looked like he was going to speak but thought better of it. The rest of the car journey passed in silence until Thorin pulled into the parking lot of the hospital.    
“Can I leave these with you?” Wednesday asked, gesturing to the photos.   
“Aye, stick them in the trunk,” Thorin said, “And then we’ll go find Thranduil.”

Wednesday led the way into the hospital, straight up to the desk. The nurse behind it looked over the group.   
“My stepson, Legolas Elfking, was brought in just now,” Wednesday said, “Can you tell me where he is?”   
“Elfking?” the nurse said as she tapped on the computer, “He’s been taken to the ICU, if you follow the signs, you’ll find a waiting room outside it.”   
“Thank you,” Wednesday said, turning and heading towards the first sign for the ICU.

 

Wednesday saw Thranduil pacing up ahead. His jacket lay on one of the hard plastic benches to one side, his shirt sleeves were rolled up and he was running his hands through his hair. He stopped when he saw her, his hands falling. Wednesday rushed forward and into his arms.   
“How is he? What’s happening?” she asked.   
“His heart rate started falling in the ambulance,” Thranduil said, “They said something about not enough oxygen in his blood. They rushed him straight in but I can’t…” He gestured at the doors to the ICU before running his hand through his hair again.   
“He’s in the best place now,” Wednesday tried to reassure him, “They’ll do everything they can for him.”   
“Why didn’t the sprinklers start?” Thranduil muttered, “They’re supposed to start when smoke is detected.”   
“It’s ok, we’ll find out,” she whispered, tightening her hold on him. She felt his head lower and rest on her shoulder. He gasped and took a deep breath. He was fighting tears. She glanced over her shoulder.   
“We’ll go,” Bilbo said gently, “Call us if you need anything.” She nodded, gently stroking Thranduil’s back. Once they had left, she guided Thranduil to the chairs and made him sit, crouching down in front of him.   
“I should have protected him,” he muttered.   
“I know how you must be feeling,” she said softly, “You’re his father, all you want is to keep him safe, but you couldn’t have predicted this. Please don’t beat yourself up over something you couldn’t have known would happen.”   
“Like you said, I’m his father,” he said, “It’s my job to worry about him.”

 

The sound of hurrying footsteps had Wednesday looking up. Celebrian was hurrying along the corridor, her blue dress swishing around her legs, Elrond close behind her. Wednesday stood up as she noticed the file in Celebrian’s hand.   
“What are you doing here?” Thranduil asked.   
“Doing my job; assisting you,” Celebrian explained, opening the file, “As soon as I saw the news, I went to the office and pulled the copies of all your insurance information.” She pulled out a stack of papers as she sat two seats away from Thranduil.   
“Health insurance documents for the hospital,” she said, “To ensure Legolas has the highest levels of care.” She set a small stack on the chair closest to him; Thranduil looked at her dumbfounded.   
“Your home insurance,” she said, setting another load of papers on the next chair, “I’ve already placed a call to the building freeholder; their insurance company has arranged hotel accomodation for everyone on the top ten floors until damage can be assessed. Here is your hotel information and key. I’ve also spoken with the police and fire department; their investigation starts tomorrow morning. They couldn’t legally tell me anything else, I’m afraid.”   
“Celebrian, you did not….”   
“My job title is Personal Assistant,” she said firmly, “To me, that means helping you personally, both inside and outside of Woodland Realm.”   
“Thank you,” Thranduil breathed, “You….I….”   
“No words are necessary, boss,” Celebrian smiled, “I hope you don’t mind but I also did a quick online shop with the company credit card. There will be new clothes delivered to the hotel at seven tomorrow morning. I also collected the three suits that were at the dry cleaners so you have plenty to wear. Wednesday, I hope you don’t mind if some of the clothes aren’t quite your style…”   
“Sweetie, I wouldn’t care if you’d gone to the thrift shop and bought them,” Wednesday cut her off, “Thank you. I hadn’t even thought of that.”   
“I did manage to find a store still open,” Celebrian continued, “I got you some night clothes and some underwear. They’re in the trunk of Elrond’s car, along with new phone chargers.” Wednesday glanced at Elrond who lingered a few yards away. She took in the clean suit he wore and then looked back at Celebrian, noting the extra makeup and jewelry she was wearing.   
“Did you two cancel a date to do this?” she asked. Elrond hesitated and looked away. Celebrian flushed pink.   
“Don’t tell my dad,” she said quietly, “Please.”   
“It’s none of my business,” Thranduil said quietly.

 

The doors to the ICU opened and a doctor emerged.   
“Mr Elfking?” he asked. Thranduil stood up.   
“Yes?”   
“Your son is stable,” the doctor explained, “He’s still unconscious and will need to stay here in the ICU for a while until his burns have healed and we can move him, but he’s going to pull through. He’s been very lucky.”   
“Can I see him?”   
“I’m afraid not, sir,” the doctor said calmly, “The best you can do, is go home, get some sleep and if anything changes, we’ll call you. Come back tomorrow, and we’ll see how he’s doing.”   
“I have Legolas’ insurance paperwork here,” Celebrian said, standing up.   
“Thank you, if you could give it to one of the administrators at the front desk, they will process it,” the doctor said, “I’m afraid I have to go, I have other patients who need me.”   
“Thank you,” Thranduil said. The doctor nodded and left.   
“I can’t leave,” Thranduil said.   
“Thranduil, I know you want to stay, but please, come to the hotel with me,” Wednesday said, “Sleep in a proper bed, get some rest, a shower, and we’ll come back tomorrow after breakfast. You staying here and making yourself ill won’t help Legolas.” Thranduil sighed.   
“You’re right,” he said after a moment, “I don’t know how much sleep I’ll get.”   
“Better than trying to rest on these chairs,” Wednesday said. She took his hands in hers and he lowered his head to touch his brow to hers.

 

*

 

Elrond drove them to the hotel arranged for them and helped them with the bags of essentials that Celebrian had arranged. She had been thorough, even finding a bottle of Thranduil’s favourite cologne. Once in the hotel room, Elrond said his farewells and left to rejoin Celebrian. 

 

Thranduil stood in the middle of the room, staring around at everything, his jacket in his hand. Wednesday moved behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. He let out a sigh.   
“I love you,” he said softly, “How did you figure out Celebrian and Elrond were on a date?”   
“Amongst other things, her breasts were higher and more front-and-centre than normal,” she admitted, “She’s wearing a date night bra that shows off the girls.”   
“I didn’t even notice,” he said.   
“You wouldn’t, because you still see her as the teenager you once knew,” Wednesday said, “She’s still a child in your eyes.” Thranduil rubbed his eyes and yawned.   
“C’mon,” she said, “Let’s get out of these clothes and in to bed. We can shower in the morning.”   
“I feel drained,” he sighed.   
“That’s completely normal,” she said, putting her hands on his waist and turning him around. She lifted her hands to his shirt and started undoing the buttons, making quick work of them. His fingers slackened and his jacket fell to the floor as she pushed it off his shoulders.   
“Did I tell you how beautiful you look today?” he said as her hands moved to his belt.   
“Probably,” she replied, “I honestly can’t remember.” His hands took hold of hers, stopping her.   
“You are beautiful,” he said softly. Wednesday immediately dropped her hold on his belt and lifted her hands to cup his face. She pulled him towards her and kissed him. He wove his hands into her hair as he returned it.   
“I just want to forget about today,” he whispered, “Help me forget everything but you, my queen.” Her hands trailed down his neck to his shoulders and his chest. She undid his belt, then the button and zipper on his pants. His hands slipped from her hair, down her shoulders and sides to the zip on her skirt, lowering it. What had started off slow suddenly took on an urgency, clothes being pulled from bodies and cast on the floor. 

 

Wednesday stepped closer, pressing her hands to his abdomen, walking him backwards until he hit the bed. He sank down to sit on it, pulling her with him so she straddled his thighs. His hands caressed her waist and hips as his mouth moved against hers. She wove the fingers of one hand into his hair and the other cupped his chin, holding him in place.   
“As you wish, my king,” she said softly.


	39. Tactical Retreat

It was three days before they could see Legolas; his burns developed an infection and the fever made him delirious and incoherent. It was another week before it had cleared up enough for him to be moved from the ICU. By that point, he was almost back to his old self. Thranduil spent much of his time at the hospital, trusting Celebrian and the rest of his staff to keep things running smoothly at Woodland Realm. Thorin kept him updated on progress with Project Orcrist; they had successfully purchased six houses within Lake Dale. They had promptly lowered the rents of their new tenants back to a reasonable level, whereas Smaug had kept the rents as high as possible, either out of greed or to force people to abandon Lake Dale. Dwalin kept in touch with Wednesday, letting her know that work had begun on bringing the new dance school up to scratch. He sent regular pictures of what they were doing, placing phone calls as necessary. She trusted him to keep it all on track and to what they had planned. It was two weeks after the fire that they got the call to say they could go into the apartment to see the damage. Part of the floor between the kitchen and door had given way during the fire and it all had to be made structurally sound before anyone could go in. It was heartbreaking to see. The entire place was black with soot and smoke-damage. If something hadn’t burnt, it had been damaged by the water used to quash the flames. 

 

Nothing had survived unscathed, Wednesday realised as she looked around. Thranduil stood next to her, hands clasped behind his head and his entire body tense. This had been his home for so long and now, everything was gone.   
“So what did you find?” he said to the fire investigator who was accompanying them.   
“It wasn’t an accident, we’ve found several areas that tested positive for accelerants,” the woman said, “Whoever it was that set it tried to make it look like an accident but did a bad job. We found accelerants on the stove top, by the side of the couch, several power outlets; anywhere an accidental fire could conceivably start.” She hesitated for a moment.   
“However, one start point could not be explained away,” she said, “Your son’s bedroom door. Whoever set this fire, deliberately set fire to his bedroom door as well.” Wednesday let out an involuntary gasp as she remembered Legolas mentioning his noise-cancelling headphones. If he had had them on, he wouldn’t have heard someone moving around the apartment, but someone could have heard him. They had tried to kill him, tried to trap him in his bedroom with no way to escape. Thranduil cursed.   
“What about the sprinklers?” he asked.   
“Deactivated,” the investigator said, “And whoever it was, wiped the security cameras and disabled them to cover their tracks. We’re still investigating with the police.”   
“Yes, they were asking yesterday if there was anyone who might have done this,” Thranduil muttered.   
“I’ll step outside, give you a few minutes,” she said, “Please, don’t go upstairs. The stairs have been severely weakened.” She left them, standing in the ruins that was once their living room.

 

“Smaug,” Thranduil growled, hands still behind his head.   
“Do you think he’s capable of something like this?” Wednesday asked.   
“Without a doubt, but I have no proof,” he replied, “Besides, he won’t have come within ten miles of this place himself, he’ll have sent someone else to do it.”   
“Will the insurance company pay out for this?”   
“For arson, yes,” he said, “But….I don’t feel safe here anymore.”   
“What are you thinking?” Thranduil took a deep breath.   
“Use the insurance money to bring it all back up to a liveable standard and then sell the place,” he said, “As quickly as possible. It should sell easily. Desirable area, lots of self-made business types looking for somewhere like this, eighty five years left on the lease.”   
“And where would we live?” Wednesday asked. Thranduil lowered his hands to hold her upper arms.   
“I was talking to Thorin last night,” he said, “You were already asleep. Smaug has been spotted out and about more and more in the last few weeks. Thorin is worried it’s only a matter of time before he makes a move towards Gloria, or Tauriel and Holly. We’re considering leaving the city.”   
“What?”   
“We’ve considered all possibilities,” Thranduil tried to reassure her, “Most of our roles can be done by phone or email. Celebrian is a whizz with my diary, I’m sure she could set it up so any meetings I have to have face-to-face can be done over a couple of days so I can then leave again.”   
“And where would we go?”   
“Lake Dale,” Thranduil said, “We can take the money from the sale of this place and live comfortably. No additional expenses as the house out there isn’t mortgaged. We’ll work something out for you with working at  _ Le Lutin _ .”   
“I already told Louis that I would probably leave once the school was up and running anyway,” Wednesday said.   
“You can always commute in, do your three nights and then come back to Lake Dale in the meantime,” he said, “I’ll look into getting you a car sorted. That’s if you’re happy to move there.”   
“Of course I am,” Wednesday said, wrapping her arms around his waist, “I’ll go where you go.”   
“Good, that’s a weight off my mind,” he said, “We’ll think it over and make a decision. I have no desire to stay in Smaug’s sights any longer than I have to.”   
“Ok,” Wednesday smiled up at him, “Shall we go see Legolas? They might have a date for him being released.” Thranduil smiled back.   
“Lead the way.”

 

*

 

Thranduil’s hand remained linked with hers as they made their way through the hospital. He talked more about moving to Lake Dale, making plans for them and their future. It made Wednesday feel happy to see him such an animated look in his eyes. He had been thinking about this for a long time, she could tell. It was what he had always wanted but never found the right time to do. They slowed as they approached the door to Legolas’ room, just in time to hear him speaking through the partially open door.   
“Look, I promised you forever, and that’s what you’re going to get,” he said, making Thranduil stop and glance at Wednesday, one eyebrow raising.   
“I’m not going to break that promise,” Legolas continued, “Now, come here and give me a kiss.” Thranduil broke into a grin, stepping forward and through the door but he came to an abrupt halt. Wednesday peered around him and saw why. Feren was bent over Legolas, their mouths pressed together in a tender kiss. Thranduil didn’t speak. He just moved forward, kicking a chair to one side. The noise of its feet scraping across the floor made Feren leap backwards in time to see Thranduil’s hands reach out and grab him by the shirt.   
“Thranduil, no!” Wednesday cried as Thranduil lifted Feren a couple of inches off the ground and slammed him into the wall.   
“Dad!” Legolas shouted, “Let him go!”   
“No, no, not you,” Thranduil growled as Feren winced.   
“Thranduil, let him go,” Wednesday said, rushing forward and grabbing Thranduil’s arm, “Put him down! Now!” Thranduil glanced at her and dropped Feren who looked too scared to move.   
“You!” Thranduil snarled, pointing at Feren, “You dare come near my son…”   
“Dad!” Legolas protested, “Leave him alone!”   
“No, not him,” Thranduil spat, “Get out!” He grabbed Feren by the shoulder and hurled him towards the door. Feren just about kept his balance but quickly left with only a quick glance at Legolas.

 

Thranduil remained where he stood for a few moments, regaining his composure. Wednesday moved over to Legolas’ bed side and sat down next to him.   
“So, Feren huh?” she said, “I did not see that one coming. I didn’t know you were gay.”   
“Nor did I,” Thranduil spoke but he did not move closer.   
“I...I couldn’t find the right time to tell you,” Legolas said, looking at his father, “It’s only been in the last few years that I’ve realised myself.”   
“I tried to set you up with one of the call centre girls six months ago,” Thranduil replied, “You could have told me then.”   
“I was scared,” Legolas admitted.   
“Of what? That I wouldn’t accept you?” Thranduil finally moved to sit on the edge of Legolas’ bed.   
“Given your reaction today, can you blame me?”   
“I was surprised, and I know Feren,” Thranduil said, “He usually gets what he wants and then moves on. He doesn’t exactly treat his lovers with respect. How long has this been going on?”   
“A year and a half,” Legolas said quietly.   
“A year and a…” Thranduil looked up surprised, “Wait...how…”   
“When you sent him to California to watch us, I spotted him. He was trying to follow me around a grocery store but doing a very bad job of it. I confronted him, and he admitted why he was there. We started talking and it kind of grew from there.” Legolas looked down at his hands as he spoke.   
“We’ve been involved ever since,” he continued, “Sneaking around because I was too scared to tell you, but it got serious. I love him, and I want to be with him.” Wednesday reached over and put her hands over Legolas’ and smiled.   
“Legolas, I...I didn’t throw him out because I was angry about you being gay,” Thranduil tried to reassure his son, “I’ve known him a long time. I don’t want you to get your heart broken.”   
“He won’t break it,” Legolas said, “I know he won’t. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” Thranduil sighed and stood up. Wednesday moved aside as he moved to the head of the bed and embraced his son.   
“I will love you no matter what,” Thranduil said gently, “And if he ever hurts you, I’ll bury him somewhere no one will ever find him.” Legolas laughed.   
“If you do that, you’ll have to find someone else to do your dirty work,” he said. Thranduil pulled back and kissed the top of Legolas’ head.    
“I’m going to go see if I can find Feren,” Wednesday said. Thranduil sank back into the chair she had vacated.   
“Thank you,” Legolas said.

 

She left the room and headed out into the corridors, walking quickly, hoping to find the man with the golden-brown hair. She spotted him, outside the main doors, looking along the road that passed in front connecting the various parking lots. His posture was rigid, a lit cigarette between his fingers. She picked up her pace a little more.   
“Feren!” she said as she approached. He didn’t move, didn’t even flinch.   
“Feren,” she said again, touching his arm.   
“Shhh,” he warned her, “We are being watched. Left side of the parking lot, be subtle.” Wednesday pretended to brush something from Feren’s arm and glanced. Her stomach dropped. Zak Stonebridge, leaning against a railing, a phone to his ear. Feren looked in the opposite direction and flicked his cigarette ash to one side.   
“Fuck,” he muttered, “We’re in fucking trouble.”   
“How much?” Wednesday asked.   
“We’re in public so we’re safe for now,” Feren said, lifting his cigarette and taking a drag, “But the fact they’re watching us does not bode well.” A luxury car drove past them, and Feren moved to stand in front of her, shielding her from sight. It pulled up in front of Zak who got in. The rear window facing them lowered slightly. Wednesday’s blood ran cold as Smaug’s face appeared, looking her in the eye as he tapped a cigar out the window. She felt Feren’s arm wrap around her chest and pull her back towards him.   
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Feren whispered to her, “I’ve got you. Let’s get back inside where it’s safe.” He dropped his cigarette, stomping on it to put it out and led her back inside.

 

They moved quickly through the hospital, lest Smaug had any more spies watching to find out where Legolas was. Thranduil looked up as they came in.   
“Feren, I’m sorry for my actions,” he said.   
“All is forgiven, we have bigger problems,” Feren said.   
“What?” Legolas said.   
“Smaug, he was just outside, picking up Stonebridge,” Feren explained as he moved closer to Legolas.   
“So what? He’s lurking, hoping to pick off the weakest member of the herd?” Thranduil said, getting to his feet, “Fuck. Call Galion, organise a security detail. I don’t want Legolas being left alone.”   
“Why not call the police?” Legolas asked.   
“No, Smaug’s paid off too many people,” Thranduil said, “I need people I can trust watching you.”   
“Boss, I’m going to have to start taking on more people if this keeps up,” Feren said, “Look, I’ll stay here with Legolas.”   
“No, I need you to watch over Wednesday,” Thranduil protested, “We can’t keep living like this.”   
“So what do you suggest?” Feren asked. Thranduil took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened his eyes, he looked first at Legolas and Feren before turning to look at Wednesday.   
“Forget waiting for the apartment to sell,” he said, “We’re leaving the city, we’re going back to Lake Dale.”

 

*

 

“You’re tense,” Thranduil’s voice was low as he spoke. Wednesday sat at the dressing table in their hotel room, brushing her hair. She paused as he spoke.   
“Can you blame me?” she asked.   
“No,” he replied, moving to stand behind her. His large hands came down to rest on her shoulders, his thumbs pressing between her shoulder blades as he found tense muscles. He began to rub them in circles and she sighed a little.   
“Are you upset with my decision?” he asked.   
“It just….it feels likes we’re running away,” she said, putting the brush down.   
“We’re not running away; it’s a tactical retreat,” he said, pressing more into her back as her muscles began to relax, “To a place of strength, to gather our forces and make a stand.”   
“You call me your queen,” Wednesday said, “That makes you my king, and we cannot allow some dragon to burn our kingdom to the ground.” She looked up into the mirror before her and locked her gaze on him. He took a deep breath and his hands stilled.   
“Go public with Project Orcrist,” she said firmly, watching as blue fire blazed in his eyes at the suggestion, “If the world knows what you’re doing, what can he do to stop you? If the world is watching, how can he hurt us?”   
“He wouldn’t dare strike at us,” Thranduil said, bending down to speak directly into her ear, “I love you beyond reason.” 

 

Wednesday turned her head and kissed him, her hand coming up to clutch the back of his head, holding him in place. He grunted in approval, his hands sliding down her shoulders to her arms, guiding her to stand, kicking the chair out the way. He remained behind her, pressing his hips into her rear. She hummed in appreciation as she pressed back against him, feeling him stiff as iron between his legs. One hand slid across her chest and into the robe she wore, cupping her breast and running his thumb over the stiffening peak. She gasped as his other hand moved to undo the belt of her robe and pulling it open.   
“Look,” he ordered her, pulling back from the kiss, “You are glorious, and you are mine.” Wednesday looked in the mirror, watching as his hands roamed over her body, tracing over every curve and dip as his mouth kissed and licked its way down her neck. He pulled the robe from her shoulders, leaving her completely bare as he nipped at her skin. He spun her around to face him, pulling her flush against his body as he began to walk them backwards towards the bed, their tongues swirling together in a furious dance.  Her hands tugged at his clothes, making short work of fastenings, desperate for the feel of his bare skin against hers.   
“Thranduil,” she panted as she finally rid him of his clothes, “I need you.”   
“You have me,” he replied, bending slightly to lift her up and place her on the bed. 

 

Her legs parted and he settled himself between them, one hand going to her centre. He groaned and kissed down her neck as his fingers swept over her, dipping into her and finding her gloriously wet and ready for him. He panted and cursed as he found her breasts heaving, crying out for his hands and mouth. He swirled his tongue over one rosy nipple before closing his mouth over it. Her hips canted up against his stomach and she cried out.   
“Beyond all reason,” he muttered against her skin. She cried out his name again and he rolled her over onto her stomach. His hands moved to her hips, pulling her up onto her knees. She whimpered as he skimmed his hand between her legs and he moved between them.   
“I love you,” she panted. His hips surged forward and he slid into her, deep and filling. She moaned, her head lowering to the bed sheets.   
“Head up, my queen,” he said softly, tracing one hand down her spine. She lifted her head, feeling his hands slide up her sides, pulling her up until she was straddling his thighs, her back against chest. She moved her feet a little to gain some purchase, her head tilting back onto his shoulder.   
“Perfect,” he whispered into her neck, linking their fingers together, “Ride me.” 

 

She rose up a little before lowering herself back down. She cried out, her hands tightening on his as she moved again. She moved slowly, savouring the sensation of his cock inside her. She felt herself clench around him, making him curse. She bit her lower lip.   
“You keep doing that, and I’m going to come,” he whispered in her ear, his hands leaving hers and moving to her hips. She moved again, finding her rhythm. His arms wrapped around her, holding her against him. One hand slid down to her clit, slowly rubbing circles over it. A warm rush of arousal coursed downwards through her, her hands reaching behind to weave into his hair. His hips moved with her, meeting her thrusts with his own. He whispered curses and promises in her ear, pledging to always take her to the heights of pleasure. She felt her muscles start to tighten, her movements becoming sloppy and rushed.   
“Are you coming?” he said softly in her ear, “Fuck, you are. Come for me, come for me, baby.”

 

She came with a scream, her back arching as he grabbed her hips. He held her in place as she rode out her orgasm until her body became limp in his arms. He lowered her down onto the bed, still buried deep within her as she took her place on her hands and knees. He thrust into her as she still trembled with aftershocks. She felt him swell within her, a sign he was close to his own completion.   
“My king,” she breathed as his fingers tightened on her hip. A final thrust had him cry out as he throbbed within her. She felt the heated rush that followed as he spent himself deep inside her. He moaned, one hand skimming up her spine, his hips still twitching.   
“My queen.”


	40. Oh Baby

“Wednesday, wake up, my love, we’re here.” Soft lips pressed to her temple, rousing Wednesday from the sleep she hadn’t even realised she had fallen into. She blinked her eyes several times until they focussed in on the familiar sight before her. The lake house. It was done. With Legolas finally released from the hospital, they had packed up what belongings they had and left the city. Louis had given her two weeks vacation in order to sort everything out for travelling back for work and to settle in. She sighed happily as she looked at the elegant front door. It was like coming home, which, she supposed, was the point. It was safe here; Smaug couldn’t touch them.   
“Are you alright?” Thranduil’s deep voice came from the seat next to her and she winced.   
“Another headache?” he asked. She nodded.   
“Yeah, I think it’s stress,” she said, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hand, “I’ll take some more painkillers when we get the bags in.” His hand reached out and he touched her forehead with the back of it.   
“You feel a little warm, are you getting sick?” he asked.   
“I dunno, maybe,” she said, “I’ve been feeling a little run down. How long have I been asleep?”   
“Two hours,” he said, “Maybe I should call everyone, tell them not to come round tonight.”   
“No, don’t, I’ll be fine,” she protested, “Just let me sleep in tomorrow.”   
“Alright, but this has been going on for a week,” Thranduil said, unbuckling his seat belt, “If you don’t pick up over the weekend, you’re going to the doctor.”   
“That’s fine,” she said, copying him and getting out the car. 

 

She stretched as Feren’s Lexus pulled up behind them on the driveway. Every muscle in her back and legs ached. Maybe she was coming down with the flu? It hadn’t been easy the last four weeks with dealing with everything. A few times she had found herself getting dizzy almost like she was going to pass out again, but thankfully, she had avoided ending up in hospital again. The last thing Thranduil needed was his son on one ward and his fiancee on another. Nothing more had been said about Feren and Legolas’ relationship either. She could feel a lingering tension between Feren and Thranduil, but they had set any disagreement aside to deal with Zak’s appearance outside the hospital whilst Legolas recuperated. Once Legolas had been discharged, he split his time between home and staying with Feren as he had before, except now when he didn’t come straight home from work, Thranduil and Wednesday knew where he was.    
“I thought we’d lost you,” Thranduil said as Feren got out the driver’s seat, removing his sunglasses.   
“Oh, the diva had to get a slushee at that last stop and no way am I having one of those in Bessy when she’s just been valeted,” he said.   
“First of all, I’m not a diva,” Legolas said, getting out the passenger side, “Second of all, I wouldn’t have spilt any, and thirdly, Bessy? Really? What kind of name is that?” His voice was raised and Wednesday winced again.   
“Hey, my Meemaw’s name was Bessy,” Feren said, pointing over the car at his boyfriend who pouted and looked away, “See what I mean, diva.” Thranduil raised one eyebrow.   
“If you two are going to have a domestic, do it away from the house, Wednesday has a headache,” he warned them in a low voice.   
“Really? Again?” Legolas asked, “Something’s up there.”   
“I think I’m getting the flu,” she said, “I just slept for two hours and I still feel like shit.”   
“Maybe you should see a doctor,” said Feren, looking her up and down.   
“If I don’t feel better by Monday, I will,” she replied, “It’s probably just stress from organising the move.”   
“Yeah,” Feren sounded unconvinced before directing his attention back to Thranduil, “Boss, you still okay with me staying here for the week?”   
“It’s fine,” Thranduil said, his shoulders suddenly getting tense, “Just….keep the volume down if you two….”   
“I couldn’t when you’re in the house anyway, boss,” Feren laughed, running his hand through his hair, “I know you’re still getting used to this.” Thranduil let out a deep sigh and his shoulders relaxed. It was true, he was still getting his head around the fact that Legolas had come stumbling out the proverbial closet and straight into a relationship with Feren, one of his most trusted employees.

 

Wednesday went to grab one of the bags out the car but Thranduil grabbed them first.   
“If you’re not feeling well, don’t over exert yourself,” he said. Wednesday sighed.   
“But I feel useless,” she said. He stood up straight, looking down at her.   
“Your job, right now, is to focus on getting better,” he said, “You put in a lot of work making sure we had everything ready for this move, getting the contractors sorted for fixing the apartment, keeping on top of everything. You deserve a rest.”   
“Maybe a good long soak in the tub will make me feel better,” she mused.   
“That sounds like a plan,” he said, lowering his head to kiss her cheek, “Maybe I’ll join you.” She smiled and turned her head to meld their mouths together. Legolas started making retching noises behind them.   
“Yuck, get a room,” he said as he breezed past them. Thranduil just shook his head.

 

*

 

A nice warm bath did make Wednesday feel a little better, even if Thranduil didn’t get round to joining her. The warm water helped ease the aches in her muscles and she felt herself relaxing. She almost fell asleep again but caught herself. She knew she had to get up and dressed, they had guests coming round. Thorin, Gloria, Dís, Fili, Kili, Tauriel, Bofur, Dwalin and Bard were coming to drink a toast to the move, and the planned reveal of Project Orcrist to the world. Thorin’s cousin Ori was going to write an article on their plans alongside a contact he’d made at a large media company, a photography student from Ori’s college was coming to do the photography too. It was a huge step. Great publicity from the project, but a massive middle finger at the same time to Smaug.

 

Wednesday sighed as she sat on the bed, still wrapped in her towel. Why did she feel so bone tired all the time?! All she wanted to do was sleep and eat. It must be the flu. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hands and hauled herself up, forcing herself to get dressed. She pulled on some leggings and a loose top that had a little detailing on it. It was comfortable, but still looked nice. She was just brushing her hair when she heard the door slam, and Bard’s melodic voice drift up the stairs. She set the brush down as she heard Thranduil reply.

 

Heading down the stairs, she saw Dwalin coming through the front door. He nodded in greeting and lifted his hand to show the large bottle of whiskey he’d brought.   
“Housewarming gift,” he said as she came to the bottom of the stairs, “It’ll warm your bones when the cold weather comes.”    
“Oh, thank you, Dwalin,” she said, taking the bottle, “How goes the school?”   
“Oh, lass, it’s been a labour of love, but we fixed the damn ceiling finally,” he answered as they headed in to the kitchen, “We’re back on track.”    
Thranduil was setting out glasses on the island, chatting happily to Tauriel, Kili and Bard as he did. He’d changed clothes into black pants, a black v-neck t-shirt and a red plaid shirt. Seeing him so happy and relaxed finally made Wednesday’s heart feel warm and she smiled. He spotted her, extending an arm out to her.   
“Hey, feeling better?” he said as she stepped into his embrace.   
“A little, my head doesn’t hurt anymore,” she said quietly.   
“Well, we’ll kick everyone out early tonight,” he said before leaning in and kissing her forehead.   
“You sick, Wednesday?” Kili asked.   
“It’s nothing too serious,” she said, “Just headaches and feeling tired.”   
“Sounds like the flu,” said Bard, “Keep it to yourself, I need to work.”   
“Thanks,” Wednesday said dryly as Thranduil’s hand ran down her side, holding her close to him. She leaned in, inhaling his scent. It soothed the aches and tiredness for a brief moment. The front door opened and the rest of their guests piled in, chattering loudly. Wednesday’s head throbbed and she felt Thranduil’s hand close over her head. The warmth helped a little.   
“Hey, Wednesday’s getting sick, so keep the volume down,” Bard piped up, prompting a lower volume.   
“Sorry to hear that,” Thorin said as they all gathered around the island.   
“Nothing serious I hope,” Dís said, standing next to Wednesday. Wednesday shook her head and smiled gently.   
“Well, we’re all here, so I’d say it’s time to open this,” said Bofur, producing a bottle of mead, “Pass the glasses.” 

 

A small cheer went up and glasses were slid towards the barman. He opened the bottle and began to pour a little into each glass. They were slowly passed back through the guests.   
“So, here is to you, Wednesday and Thranduil,” Bofur said as he filled the last two glasses, “May your troubles be less, and your blessings be more, and nothing but happiness come through your door.  _ Biotáille maith _ !”   
“ _ Deagh spioradan _ !” said Dwalin. The glasses were passed back towards Wednesday and Thranduil. Wednesday took the first one from Dís and passed it to Thranduil. As she handed it over, a waft of the sweet scent reached her nose and her stomach lurched. She whirled around and vomited into the sink behind her. She heard the thud of glasses being put down quickly and felt the warmth of Thranduil’s hands pulling her hair back as she vomited again. Her eyes streamed as she coughed a little. She felt Thranduil adjust his grip slightly to hold her hair with one hand and rub her back with the other.   
“Sorry,” she managed to cough.   
“It’s alright,” he said soothingly, “Feel better?” She nodded. He let go of her hair and turned on the faucet before helping her stand up slowly.   
“Perhaps we should drink up and go,” Thorin said gently, “Let Wednesday rest up a little.”  She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, leaning slightly back into Thranduil. She glanced over at the island. She felt another wave of nausea as she looked at the mead glasses.   
“No,” she managed to groan  before flying towards the stairs. She just made it through to the en-suite bathroom before she threw up again.

 

She’d been crouched by the toilet for about ten minutes when she heard a knock at the door.   
“Wednesday?” she heard Tauriel speak, “Can I come in?”   
“Yes,” Wednesday managed to say weakly. The door opened and the red-head came in.   
“Dad’s just saying bye to everyone,” she said as she set down her purse and sat on the floor next to Wednesday, “How are you feeling?”   
“Still a little nauseous.”   
“And you’ve been tired, and had headaches?” Wednesday nodded.   
“What about being dizzy?” Tauriel asked.   
“A little. It’s just stress,” Wednesday replied, “It’s hard enough organising a house move, never mind doing it in secret.”   
“When did you last have a period?” Tauriel asked, looking at her hands. Wednesday swallowed hard.   
“Not since the fire,” she admitted. Tauriel reached into her purse and pulled out a small box. A pregnancy test.   
“Take it,” she insisted, “Even if it’s all just a weird combination of stress and the flu, it’ll put your mind at ease.” Wednesday sighed. She’d been trying NOT to think about that possibility. She took the box from Tauriel.   
“It’ll be okay,” Tauriel said, reassuringly, “Dad loves you more than anything. He just wants you to be happy.” She got to her feet and left with another supportive smile, leaving Wednesday alone.

 

*

 

Thranduil made sure the kitchen was clean and all the glasses cleared away before he headed upstairs. Tauriel had told him that Wednesday was okay, and just needed a little time. Legolas and Feren had headed out for a drink at the pub, leaving them alone. He headed up the stairs, his heart thudded in anticipation. Something had been off for a week but with so much to organise, it hadn’t taken a precedent in dealing with.   
“Wednesday?” he called as he reached the bedroom door. He heard a faint sniffle on the other side of the door and pushed it open. Wednesday was sat on the edge of their bed, her shoulders shaking slightly, tears dripping from her eyes to her cheeks as she looked at her lap.   
“Wednesday?” he said again, softly. She looked up at him, her eyes still wet. She broke into fresh sobs and he rushed forward, dropping to one knee in front of her. His hands came up and cupped her head, his thumbs wiping away her tears.   
“I’m sorry,” she sniffed, “I’ve messed everything up.”   
“It’s okay, I’m here,” he said, not knowing what she was referring to, “Tell me what’s wrong.” He moved to sit next to her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and stroking her hair.   
“I must have forgotten or something, what with the fire and Legolas in the hospital and everything,” she sobbed again, “I must have missed a couple of pills. I’m sorry, Thranduil, I’m sorry.” Her hands fidgeted in her lap and he looked down. She held a little white stick in her hand, a little window in it’s plastic casing showing two clear lines.   
“I’m pregnant,” she said. 

 

His heart skipped a beat and he released his hold on her to take the small test from her hands.   
“Pregnant?” he breathed, staring at it.   
“I’m sorry, I know we had a plan and it didn’t involved babies just yet,” she started to babble, “I’m so…” He cut her off with a kiss, the test falling to the floor as his hands held her face.   
“Don’t. Ever. Be. Sorry,” he said firmly when he pulled back, “Never.”

“You’re not angry?”    
“No! I could never be…” he stopped, one hand lowering from her face to rest on her lower abdomen, “You’re really pregnant?” She nodded.   
“I haven’t had a period in seven weeks,” she said, her eyes never leaving his, “Tiredness, nausea, headaches, they’re all symptoms.” He smiled.   
“You’re having my baby,” he said softly, his thumb stroking over her clothing, “There’s a little bit of both of us in there.” Wednesday’s face broke into a smile and she sighed in relief.   
“I know this wasn’t what we planned,” she said.   
“Babies rarely are,” he said gently, blinking as tears began to sting in his eyes.   
“Thranduil?” she said, reaching up and wiping them away.   
“They’re happy tears,” he reassured her, “You’re having my baby! You’re having my baby!” He let out a whoop, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her onto his lap and into his kiss. He could feel her smile growing as she returned his kiss.   
“Our baby,” she said softly when he finally pulled back, their hands merging low on her stomach.   
“Our baby,” he repeated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Biotáille maith' and 'Deagh spioradan' both mean good spirits.


	41. Save The Date

Wednesday smiled up at Thranduil. He was lying on his side, his head propped up on his hand, his long blond hair skimming over his shoulders as he looked down at her.   
“Hey,” she said quietly, “How long have you been awake?”   
“A few hours,” he admitted, “Apparently there was a lock-in at Bofur’s last night. I fear the boys will be a little worse for wear today.”   
“I didn’t even hear them,” she said, stretching slightly.   
“Good,” he said firmly, “You need your rest. If they had woken you, there would have been hell to pay. How are you feeling?”   
“Okay, but I know that’ll change once I get up,” she said. He smiled and his free hand skimmed across her stomach.   
“I still can’t believe it,” he whispered, “You’re incredible.” He leaned in and kissed her gently.   
“I didn’t do anything,” she laughed, “Except what women have been doing since the dawn of time; getting knocked up.” Thranduil shook his head gently before moving down to kiss the line of exposed flesh along the top of her pyjama shorts. Wednesday sighed happily, one hand lowering to stroke his hair lazily as he pressed kisses to her skin. 

 

Her breath hitched as she felt his fingers tug the edge of her shorts down a little to kiss lower.   
“Thranduil,” she breathed as he shifted, holding her shorts with both hands and pulling them down further. His lips trailed over her mound and the tops of her legs, any inch of skin he could reach as it was revealed. Her heart fluttered and she felt heated arousal course through her.   
“Baby, what are you doing?” she asked breathlessly as he finally pushed her shorts off her legs and tossed them away.   
“What does it look like I’m doing,” he replied, lifting one leg gently and leaning. He ran his tongue over her flesh, grinning when he heard her whimper and her hands flew to his hair, weaving her fingers into the strands. He alternated between long, languid licks and gentle kisses to her womanhood, making her sigh and arch her back. She sighed his name repeatedly as he started to speed up his efforts, building wave upon wave of pleasure until she was dangling on the precipice. 

 

He pulled back and crawled up her body. Her legs naturally fell open to accept him and his hard length sank into her with ease.   
“Oh, fuck, baby,” he whispered, feeling her clench around him. He held his weight up off her as he slowly began to rock into her. Her legs locked around his waist, pulling him further in as her hands held onto him.   
“I love you so much,” he breathed as he started to pick up his pace, revelling in the sight of her head tilting back, mouth opening silently as her eyes closed. Wednesday tried to respond, but couldn’t get the words out. Everything began and ended with the man between her legs, rubbing her clit in just the right way that she could feel herself starting to tip over the edge.   
“Come on, baby,” he said softly, “Come for me.” Her hips suddenly snapped up to meet his and she let out a howl.   
“Fuck!” he grunted, swelling inside her before releasing, his hips rutting into hers as he rode out both their orgasms.

 

He pulled out and rolled to one side, fighting to catch his breath just as she was.    
“Are you okay?” he panted. She nodded in response.   
“Wa...was that safe?” she managed to get out. He glanced at her. He had forgotten this was her first pregnancy for a moment.   
“Completely,” he reassured her, “Don’t worry.” She rolled towards him and he pulled her into his arms.   
“Ouch!” she protested as a sharp jolt ran through her breasts. He loosened his grip, allowing her to roll away slightly.   
“Knew that would happen eventually,” he said quietly. Wednesday winced, her hands coming up to hold her breasts. She took in a deep breath, her eyes widening.   
“Oh, god, here we go,” she said, quickly rolling out of bed and making a break for the bathroom to retch over the toilet.

 

*

 

Wednesday made her way downstairs a little while later, her stomach finally settled enough. She could hear Thranduil moving around in his study so she headed off to make herself some breakfast. She seemed to recall Gloria saying dry toast helped her with morning sickness so she set off in search of the toaster. She found it on the top shelf of a cabinet of all places. She shook her head; she needed to reorganise this place at some point. She couldn’t quite reach it so she lifted one leg to climb on to the counter. She was just pulling up the other leg when she heard the study door open.   
“What the hell are you doing?!” Thranduil yelled. Before she could react, he was behind her, his strong arms wrapping around her waist and lifting her down.   
“I couldn’t reach the toaster!” she protested.   
“So you decided to climb onto the counter rather than ask me?”   
“You were busy,” she argued, “Besides, I’m pregnant, not an invalid.” Thranduil sighed as he let her go.   
“Wednesday, I don’t want anything to happen to you, or the baby,” he said, “Please don’t do anything like that, don’t risk hurting yourself. Ask me for help. Ok? That’s my job now, helping you.”   
“And what’s my job then?” she asked, “Because I thought it was to make things easier for you, and I already fucked that up. You said so yourself three months ago, Orcrist isn’t going to turn a profit for a while yet, so money is tight. And I’ve gone and gotten pregnant.”   
“Let me worry about our finances,” he said firmly, “Your job for the next seven  to eight months is this.” He reached out and put a hand on her stomach.   
“Your job is to keep our baby safe and healthy,” he said, his voice softening as her hand laid on top of his, “Forget everything else. We can leave the toaster on the counter for now.”   
“Good, because I’m going to reorganise this room anyway,” she said, looking him in the eye, “It’s obvious that everything was organised by two men with zero female influence.”   
“Are you nesting already?” Thranduil grinned.   
“No! I just want to be able to reach things,” she protested, playfully slapping him on the shoulder.

 

“I have something to show you,” he said.   
“What?” she asked.   
“Look,” he said, pointing at the island. Sat on the counter top was a single green pea.   
“What am I looking at?” she asked.   
“That, roughly, is the size of our baby right now,” he said gently.   
“That’s it?! I feel like complete crap and that’s it?!” Wednesday said, her jaw dropping in disgust.   
“It takes a while for hormones to settle,” Thranduil explained, kissing her head, “That’s what makes you feel so ill.”   
“I feel cheated. How do you know about all this?”   
“I was heavily involved in both of Laurina’s pregnancies,” he said, “I read more pregnancy books than she did, and I still remember most of it. So I can tell you, that in the next ten weeks or so, you’ll start feeling movement.”   
“Ten weeks, is that it?” she asked. Thranduil nodded.   
“Your bump will start to show shortly after as well,” he said, “Provided you’re not carrying in the back. A little after that, we may be able to find out gender, pick names, pick nursery colours…” He was cut off by Wednesday going on to her tiptoes and pressing a kiss to his mouth. He leaned into the kiss, hands reaching up to hold her head.

 

When she eventually pulled back, her forehead rested against his.   
“You’re really invested in this, aren’t you?” she said softly.   
“Wednesday, I’ve wanted this baby just as much as you have,” he said, “I knew it the moment I knew I wanted to marry you. That day you danced in the cathedral, I knew it. I wanted you in my life forever, as my wife, as the mother of my children. I love you, beyond all reason, and I will do anything I can to keep you happy and safe. That’s why we’re here, and I’m so glad we are. Because here, you and the baby are both out of Smaug’s reach. I lost Laurina and our baby to him, I won’t lose you and this one too.” His hand pressed again to her stomach.   
“You won’t lose us, I promise,” she replied.

 

*

  
“So you’re probably wondering why we called a family dinner at such short notice?” Thranduil said, looking around the table. To his left was Tauriel, next to her was Kili. Sat in a high chair next to Kili was Holly who was squeezing mashed sweet potato in her hands, more interested in playing with it than anything else. That included throwing it onto Feren’s lap to her left. Legolas sat to Feren’s left next to Wednesday. To say Feren and Legolas looked hungover was an understatement.   
“The thought did occur,” Feren said, watching them carefully.   
“Well, there’s no point making it long-winded,” Wednesday said, “I’m pregnant. It’s still early days so this doesn’t leave this room unless your dad or I tell someone for now, but we wanted to tell you all straight away.” There was silence from the other side of the table as all four stared back at them.   
“Well,” Feren said, setting down his fork, “I think I speak for all of us when I say….pay up losers!” Tauriel, Kili and Legolas all groaned.   
“Excuse me?” Thranduil said, glaring at his employee.   
“Oh, and congratulations boss,” said Feren as he took some crumpled notes that Kili had thrown across the table at him, “We made a bet on when you were going to slip one past the goalie. Tauriel, you owe me still.”   
“They wouldn’t even know yet if it wasn’t for me,” Tauriel argued, ”Besides, I’m tapped. Can I owe you?” Feren nodded as Legolas shoved some money in his hand.   
“Yeah, why are you carrying a pregnancy test around with you?” Wednesday asked.   
“Uh, I’m still waiting for everything to get regular again after Holly,” said Tauriel waving a hand, “I just keep hold of one to reassure myself.”   
“Well, anyway, thank you,” Wednesday said, “As ill as I still feel, it’s better knowing exactly what’s causing it.”   
“I think it’s great,” Kili said, smiling brightly, “Just think, Holly, this baby and Uncle Thorin’s kid, all growing up together, here in Lake Dale.” Thranduil chuckled.   
“As it should be,” he said, reaching over and putting a hand on Wednesday’s stomach, “They will be the future of Lake Dale, and the legacy we leave behind.” His thumb stroked back and forth as he looked at it, a far off look in his eyes, dreaming of the future Wednesday didn’t doubt.

 

*

 

“How do you feel about some baby practice?”   
Wednesday glanced over her shoulder at Kili who was leaning on the back of the couch. She’d been banished to the living room by Thranduil when he caught her attempting to do the dishes. He’d put Feren and Legolas on dish duty whilst Tauriel cleaned up all the sweet potato that Holly had decorated the floor with. Thranduil was taking said budding interior designer for a walk around the house.   
“Excuse me?” she asked, blinking up at the curly-haired man. He flashed her his usual charming grin and his cheeks tinged red.   
“Umm, it’s almost the anniversary of when Tauriel and I first met, and I’d like to take her out, for a date night,” he explained, “My mom is busy, and I would ask Legolas but it’s Thranduil’s house and…”   
“You want us to have Holly overnight?”   
“Uh, yeah, if that’s okay?”   
“Of course,” Wednesday said, “If you don’t mind someone with zero baby experience watching her?”   
“She’s pretty good, sleeps through most of the night anyway,” Kili said, “Plus, Thranduil is like super-dad. He’ll keep you on track. Please, it would mean a lot to both of us.”   
“I’d love to have her,” she replied, smiling.   
“Great, um, I’ll probably bring her around about six tomorrow,” he said, “She’ll just need a last feed, bath and then she’ll go straight down for the night.”   
“Sounds good,” Wednesday’s smile grew wider.   
“Hey, have you given any thought to what you want to be called?” Kili asked.   
“Huh?”   
“Well, she’s going to start picking up words in the next couple of months,” he explained, “So we’re referring to each other as mama and dada in front of her. Thranduil wants to be called Grandpa. I was just wondering if you had a preference.”    
“Words already?”   
“Yeah, they can start saying words from six months, she’s five already,” Kili said.   
“Oh my god,” Wednesday said, “See, I didn’t even know that. I didn’t even know about introducing her to solid food already either. Shit, I don’t know the first thing about babies.” 

 

She sank into the cushions of the couch, wondering how much more she didn’t know. Thranduil had said her only job was to keep their unborn child safe and healthy; and she had no idea how to even do that, nevermind what came after.   
“Hey,” said Kili, heaving himself over the back of the couch and landing next to her, “Don’t panic, it’s okay. Tauriel and I didn’t know any of this stuff either. It was first time for both of us, and we couldn’t ask anyone for help. You’ve got Thranduil, he knows a lot of this stuff already. The rest you pick up along the way. Please, don’t freak out, Thranduil will kill me.”   
“I’m fine,” Wednesday said, patting Kili’s shoulder, “Just….I put a lot of pressure on myself. I need to be fair to myself, I found out I was pregnant twenty-four hours ago. I can’t expect myself to know all this stuff instantly.”   
“I think we’ve got some books stashed at my mom’s place that might help you,” Kili said, “You know, What To Expect When You’re Expecting and all that. I’ll have a look, see if she hasn’t given them to Thorin.”   
“That’d be great,” she replied, “A book, something I can pick up when Thranduil insists I sit down.”   
“Is he really that bad?”   
“He freaked out over me climbing on the counter to reach the toaster this morning,” she said, “And then tonight, he wouldn’t let me help with dinner or the dishes.”   
“Don’t let him take the lead,” Kili said, “It’s you who’s growing a human being, you know your limitations better than he does. Stand up to him, put him in his place. Tauriel did that to me. Five weeks of her pregnancy, she didn’t even talk to me because I tried to tell her what she could and couldn’t do.”   
“Five weeks?” Wednesday laughed, “I don’t know if I could manage not talking to him for five weeks.”   
“Well, we had practically an entire country between us which helped,” Kili admitted, “But Tauriel’s softened so much since Holly was born. She was the most stubborn pig-headed woman when I met her; she saw what she wanted and she went after it. It’s what made me fall for her.”   
“And now that she’s changed?”   
“She’s changed for our daughter,” Kili said, “And I love her even more for that. Oh, we meant to give you these but with your little announcement, I kinda forgot.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a little card, handing it to her.

 

_ Save The Date! _

_ Kili & Tauriel _

_ February 23rd _

_ Formal invitation to follow _

 

“You set the date?” Wednesday practically squealed.   
“Yep,” Kili grinned, “Last saturday in February, it’s going to be at the little church here in Lake Dale. Galadriel’s pulled out all the stops to help us.”   
“February, oh my god, I’m going to be huge by then!” she exclaimed.   
“You’re not the only one, Gloria’s due the week after!” Kili laughed, “People are going to think there’s something in the water!”


	42. Mémé

Wednesday could still hear Thranduil grumbling upstairs when Kili knocked at the door the following night. She answered, prompting a huge gummy grin and a giggle from Holly.   
“Look, Holly it’s…” Kili trailed off.   
“Mémé,” said Wednesday, “I went online today and quite liked that one, French in origin but doesn’t have the ‘grand’ bit in front.”   
“Mémé,” Kili repeated, “Nice, classy.”   
“Doesn’t make me sound old,” Wednesday said, holding her arms out to Holly who was desperately reaching for her. Holly immediately snuggled in to her when Kili handed the infant over.   
“She’s gotten very affectionate recently,” Kili said, “She wants to love everyone.”   
“C’mon in,” Wednesday said, stepping to one side to let him in, “Thranduil’s just trying to figure out how to set up the travel crib for her...and where to hide the vacuum cleaner.”   
“Hide the what now?” Kili said as he went into the kitchen to drop off the overnight bag for Holly.   
“He popped out earlier and I vacuumed upstairs whilst he was out,” Wednesday said, “Got a little carried away and he busted me when I started trying to bring it downstairs.”   
“Oh, you little rebel,” Kili laughed.   
“It’s not funny Durinson!” Thranduil’s voice echoed from upstairs. Wednesday just rolled her eyes.   
“Grandpa needs to loosen up, doesn’t he, Holly?” Wednesday cooed at the baby who giggled in response. Kili began digging around in the bag and pulled out four bottles.   
“Ok, so she should only need three of these but Tauriel thought it better to be safe than sorry,” Kili said, as he put them in the fridge, “One after her bath before bed. She’ll probably wake up about one, two in the morning for another one and then the third one at breakfast. We’ll pick her up before her next feed after that. Bottle warmer is in the bag, don’t microwave it. Swirl it if it’s separated into layers, don’t shake it. I think that’s it. Everything else, Thranduil knows how to do.”   
“You can’t microwave breast milk?”   
“No, too hot, supposed to be body temperature,” Kili said, “She’s got a few changes of clothes in the bag, her comforter. More diapers than you will ever need but that’s just Taur overthinking stuff. Call us if you need anything.”   
I’m sure we’ll be fine,” Thranduil said as he came down the stairs. Kili smiled in response before looking back at his daughter.   
“Okay, my little pebble, say bye-bye to dada,” he said. Holly grinned at him again as he leaned in and kissed her forehead.   
“C’mon, say it for me, say dada,” he said. Holly responded by blowing bubbles at him.   
“Yeah, that’s what mama calls me too,” he muttered, “Alright then, Grandpa and Mémé, have fun.”   
“Oh, I’m sure we will,” said Thranduil, escorting Kili to the door, “Try not to have too much fun yourself.”   
“Well, that’s what I’m hoping for,” Kili joked before making a hasty exit. Thranduil shook his head and turned back to look at Wednesday and Holly.   
“So,” he said, “Mémé, huh?”

 

*

 

Wednesday smiled sweetly as she watched Thranduil with his granddaughter. They had just finished bathing her and she was now lying on a towel in the middle of their bed, Thranduil blowing raspberries on her stomach, prompting even more baby giggles.   
“You’re getting her worked up,” Wednesday said, “She won’t sleep.”   
“Ah, but I have the Touch,” Thranduil looked up at her, “I can make any baby sleep. Can you finish getting her dressed, I’ll go get her milk ready.” He stepped away, prompting a pout from Holly.   
“Hey now, Mémé is right here,” Wednesday immediately jumped in, moving to stand where he had, “Now, we’re going to put on your nice, cosy pyjamas.” She used a high-pitched, softer voice almost on instinct that surprised even her.   
“And Grandpa is going to get your milk,” she continued as the pout melted away, “And then we’re going to read a story and then it’s night-night time.” Holly smiled at her and Thranduil slipped out the door quietly.

 

Wednesday grabbed the onesie and diaper from the end of the bed and set about getting Holly ready. For a brief moment, she wished Thranduil had stayed. It took her a few seconds to figure out which way round the diaper went but she managed it. Fastening it securely was another matter.   
“Is this too tight or what?” she muttered to herself as she readjusted it. She then tightened it back up just a touch, making a mental note to ask Thranduil when he came back. She managed to get Holly’s feet in the onesie without much incident but froze when it came to her arms. She didn’t want to hurt Holly. Holly just happily lay there half-dressed, babbling away whilst Wednesday second-guessed herself. She heard Thranduil coming back up the stairs. She took a deep breath and then a firm but gentle hold of Holly’s arm, guiding it towards the sleeve. She smiled in surprise as she quickly got both of the baby’s arms into the onesie with no problem. ‘Babies are tougher than I imagined,’ she thought to herself, feeling immensely proud at the same time.

 

The bedroom door opened and Thranduil came in, swirling the milk bottle gently.   
“How’s it going?” he asked.   
“I got the diaper on the right way round, and I got two arms and two legs into the onesie,” Wednesday said, “Can you just check that her diaper isn’t too tight, I’m worried about hurting her.” Thranduil set the bottle down and checked.   
“That’s perfect,” he said, “It’s not going to go anywhere and she can still move. Well done.” Wednesday giggled and clapped her hands a little.   
“I’m proud of you,” he said, leaning in and kissing her cheek, “First time doing this and you’re getting it spot on. By the time ours arrives, you’ll be a regular pro at it. See, even Holly looks proud of you.” Holly certainly did, a big grin on her face. But it slowly changed. Her mouth shut, her little brow furrowed and she started to turn red. She made a furious grunting noise.   
“Thranduil, what’s happening?” Wednesday asked.   
“I’m not sure,” he replied. Holly let out a short screech and there was a small noise and then she relaxed. She giggled again and wiggled her feet. That’s when it hit.   
“Oh my god!” Wednesday said, clamping her hand over her mouth and nose, “That stinks! Did she just shit?” Beside her, Thranduil just turned a very pale shade of green.

 

*

 

Tauriel glanced over at Kili who was laughing at whatever was being said down the phone to him.   
“A poo-nami!” he cackled, “Oh, that’s funny. Have fun with that.” He hung up.   
“Who was that?”   
“Wednesday,” Kili continued to giggle, “Holly just did a colossal shit. It’s all over her, her pyjamas, their bed! Thranduil’s barfed already and Legolas and Feren have just abandoned Wednesday to clean up everything. Which Holly has now decided to add another bodily fluid to.”   
“Maybe we…”   
“We are going to enjoy our night together,” Kili said, putting his arm around her shoulder and pulling her close, “Wednesday said she wanted to learn how to take care of babies, and this is doing it. Besides, once your dad pulls his head out of the toilet, he’ll be able to help.”   
“But..”   
“If she can’t handle poop, vomit and a little bit of piss, she’s not going to make it as a parent,” he said, “At least no one has added blood to the mix yet.”   
“If Legolas and Feren just took off, theirs might,” Tauriel said, wrapping her cardigan tighter around them, “Where are we going?”   
“I just want to show you something.”   
“Something that we couldn’t bring Holly to?”   
“You’ll see when we get there.”

 

He led her towards the eastern edge of Lake Dale, close to where the beachside houses were being redeveloped. He stopped outside a small house. It was mostly wood-clad with a stone base, a small porch running around one side from the front door and a deck on the other side.   
“What is this?” Tauriel asked.   
“C’mon in,” Kili said, going up the steps to the front door and pulling a key out of his pocket. He unlocked the door and led her in. To their left was a large family room, empty at the moment save for a basket. To their immediate right was a smaller room, big enough for a table and chairs with a door leading onto the deck, the kitchen was part of the same room  with a breakfast bar backing onto the dining room. Immediately in front of them were stairs, leading to the upper floor. Large windows to let in daylight were on every wall and it was decorated in neutral shades to make it seem bigger and brighter.   
“What….” Tauriel started as she looked around.   
“This is our home,” Kili said gently.   
“Our….how can we afford this?” she asked, “We’ve only just started working, we have no idea if we….”   
“Turns out twenty years interest is a hell of a lot more than my mom thought,” Kili said, “And, seen as we’re only having a small wedding, there was a lot more of Zak’s money left over than was originally accounted for. Fili’s paid off his house, and I’ve paid for half of this with it. Uncle Thorin and your dad have been very generous with the price so the mortgage on the rest is quite low, but we need to pay Balin back for the deposit to secure the mortgage.”   
“Wait, we own this?” Tauriel asked.   
“Yep, all two-storeys and three bedrooms,” Kili said.   
“That wasn’t wedding stuff you asked me to sign was it?”   
“No,” Kili admitted, “It was to put your name on the house too.”   
“You organised all this?” she asked, running her hands through her hair as she took it all in.   
“You deserve it,” he said, “You do so much for me, and taking care of Holly. Putting a permanent roof over our heads was the least I could do.”   
“Kee, I….” she seemed lost for words, “When can we move in?”   
“Whenever we’re ready,” Kili said, “But I wanted to show you this first.” He took her hand and led her up the stairs.

 

He led her into one of the bedrooms. She gasped. It was almost identical to how she had decorated Holly’s nursery at Balin’s house, right down to the lights in the window.   
“I know how much you love her nursery,” he explained.   
“Oh...babe….” she managed before she started to tear up.   
“Are you happy?”   
“Of course I’m happy, you idiot,” she burst out, leaping forward and hugging him, “You did this for us?”   
“I’d do anything for you,” he replied. She pulled back.   
“Three bedrooms?” she queried, “But all our family and friends live in Lake Dale. It’s not like we’re….” He cut her off with a kiss, his hand sinking into her hair.   
“You changed your mind?” she whispered, “But I thought….”   
“The situations changed,” he said, “Everyone knows about us now, Lake Dale is on the up, we’re both starting good jobs, we’re getting married….if you want more children, then we’ll go for it, when you’re ready.”   
“Are you sure?”   
“I think you know I am.”


	43. Earl

Wednesday was awoken by Holly’s babbling voice. She froze for a moment, taking a deep breath for her nose. Thankfully, there had not been a repeat performance of the previous night. She let out a sigh of relief and checked the little alarm clock on her bedside table. Seven in the morning. Thranduil must have gotten up in the night to feed her. She raised herself up onto an elbow to look down at the travel crib next to the bed. Holly was laying on her back, her feet wiggling in the air whilst chewing on a toy and babbling loudly. She smiled as Holly’s volume raised at the sight of her.   
“Did you have sweet dreams?” Wednesday asked. Holly giggled in response. Wednesday reached behind her and gave Thranduil a little shake. He grunted.   
“What?” he asked.   
“Come, look,” Wednesday whispered. She felt the bed move behind her and Thranduil sat up. He made a small noise of amusement at the sight of his granddaughter playing so happily.   
“Just think, this time next year, our baby will be doing that,” he whispered in her ear, his hand reaching over to stroke her belly. Holly promptly threw her toy away and started howling.   
“I think someone’s hungry,” Thranduil said as he pulled away. He climbed out of bed as Wednesday sat up properly, groaning as a wave of nausea washed over her. Thranduil reached into the crib and lifted Holly out, her crying stopping instantly.   
“If you change her, I’ll go get her bottle and you some toast,” he said. Wednesday held out her arms and Thranduil lowered the infant into them.   
“I still can’t believe you threw up last night,” Wednesday said, “And I was the one with the steady stomach.”   
“Legolas never did that,” Thranduil said, as he retrieved the bag with Holly’s things in it, “Or if he did, he didn’t do it whilst I was home.”   
“You never came home to find places mysteriously much cleaner?”   
“Maybe,” he grinned, leaning in to kiss her forehead and the top of Holly’s.

 

As he left, Wednesday pulled out the small mat and laid it out on the bed.   
“Now then, little miss, no repeat performances, please,” she said as she undid the onesie. Holly babbled again, chewing on her fists.   
“Your cheeks are a little red,” Wednesday mused as she stripped off the onesie and the wet diaper, “Are you getting some teeth?” Holly babbled again as Wednesday continued. She second guessed herself again with the diaper, but after adjusting it, she was fairly confident it was right and pulled out the clean outfit that Tauriel had packed, or one of them at least. A noise drew her attention to the open bedroom door. Feren was stood at the top of the stairs, checking his phone.   
“Hey Feren, catch!” Wednesday called, grabbing the small bag that held the wet diaper and throwing it as he turned. He caught it on instinct.   
“Ewww,” he said when he saw what it was.   
“Oh relax, there’s no poop in it,” Wednesday said, lifting Holly up to finish dressing her, “Besides, you two owe me for bailing last night.” Feren pulled a face of disgust and headed down the stairs, diaper held at arms length between a finger and his thumb.

 

Thranduil returned a few minutes later, laughing to himself.   
“Feren was not impressed,” he said as he sat on the bed next to her, “I’m sure I can think of a suitable punishment for Legolas abandoning us too. Do you want to feed her?” Wednesday nodded, shifting Holly to lie back on one arm and taking the bottle from Thranduil. Holly was a little reluctant at first but soon took it, even lifting her hands to hold it herself.   
“Have you given any thought to the whole bottle-or-breast debate?” Thranduil asked as he sipped his coffee.   
“I’d like to try breastfeeding,” Wednesday answered as she looked at Holly, “But I know some women struggle with it.”   
“Everyone is different,” Thranduil said, “Legolas had to be combination fed. Laurina just couldn’t produce enough for him, but she continued until he was almost two anyway. I know Bard’s wife had her supply dry up extremely early, and some women I know were still producing long after their children were weaned. You’re a natural at this.” Wednesday smiled at Holly and then looking at Thranduil.   
“I think she loves her Mémé,” he said softly.   
“I think Uncle Legolas is more fun,” Wednesday replied, “It’s weird to think she’s going to be older than her own aunt or uncle.”   
“Such is the modern world,” Thranduil said, “Some people still have children young, some leave it very late. Two generations grow up alongside each other now more and more. And there’s nothing wrong with that.”

 

*

 

Wednesday was sat on the couch with Holly when she heard the door open a little later. She looked over the back and saw Tauriel and Kili come in.   
“Look, it’s mama and dada,” she said, lifting Holly up so she could see her parents.   
“My baby!” Tauriel cried, rushing forward and swooping Holly up into her arms, “Were you a good girl for Grandpa and Mémé?”   
“Aside from the poo-nami incident, yes,” Wednesday said, “She was a very good girl. She ate all her dinner, only woke up once in the night and ate all her breakfast this morning.”   
“Oh that’s the Durinson appetite right there,” said Kili, “That’s my girl. Thanks, Wednesday. Sorry about the whole…”   
“It was worth it just to see Thranduil stumble a little,” Wednesday joked.   
“Where is he anyway?”   
“He’s gone to do something about a car,” Wednesday said, “I didn’t quite catch what he said with my head in the toilet.”   
“Oh, I hated morning sickness too,” said Tauriel, bouncing Holly slightly, “Actually, it was all-day sickness for me.”   
“I’m trying eating little and often, see if that helps,” Wednesday said, “Anyway, I’ve got to go down to the dance school, do you guys want to come?” Tauriel glanced at Kili, who shrugged.   
“We’re not due at my mom’s til dinner time so we’re free all day,” Kili said, “Yeah, let’s go. I want to see it. We can sign Holly up for lessons in a few years.”

 

A little while later, with Holly strapped into her stroller, they set off for the long walk down into the centre of Lake Dale. They were all bundled up warm with the cold autumn air blowing. Holly was demonstrating her ability to blow raspberries until she dropped off as they passed the pub, Bofur giving them a cheery wave from the window. There was a huge difference between now and when they had first come at the start of summer. All the outside tables were now stacked up at the side of the building, covered with a tarpaulin. Smoke emerged from the chimneys of some of the older buildings that still had wood fires. Peoples faces were hidden behind scarves. The only people who didn’t seem to be feeling the cold were those hard at work at the old community centre. The sign had been taken down, and Wednesday knew another one was being made. One that said Wednesday McQueen School of Dance. The roof was currently being reshingled before the cold weather really hit. Wednesday could see Bard straddling the ridge of the roof and yelling at someone behind the building. Dwalin came bursting out the front doors, carrying a load of scrap, two or three others behind him with their own. They dumped it into the skip on  the front before heading back in. Dwalin happened to look back and saw them. He waved his hand and started walking towards them.   
“Ye’ve picked a fine day to visit, lass,” Dwalin said to Wednesday, “We’re finally making some progress. Come, look.” 

 

He led them in, pausing only as Tauriel removed Holly from her stroller. Inside was a buzz of activity. The old toilets and sinks were sat, waiting to be removed in the entrance hall, and Wednesday could hear banging coming from the direction of the bathrooms. Two men hurried past with old cabinet doors from the kitchen. Dwalin led them to the main room. The ceiling had been repaired and replaced, the timbers visible giving the room a modern-barn style look. The vaulted ceiling made the room seem even bigger. The walls were prepped for painting, fresh plaster still drying in places. They couldn’t go in far as three men were pulling up the old floor. There was various banging noises coming from the storage room as well. It looked chaotic and a mess, but Wednesday knew that within a matter of weeks, it would be perfect.   
“You’re doing an incredible job, Dwalin,” she said.   
“Aye, she’s a fine old lady is this,” he said, removing a glove and scratching his chin, “It’ll be good to see her back in use, exceptin’ those rum-drinking old biddies that hired the place.”   
“You’re just jealous because they never invited you.” Kili laughed. A loud snap came from the storage room and a hush fell over the building.   
“Dwalin! We’ve got a big’un!” came a yell.   
“Excuse me,” said Dwalin, putting his glove back on and heading into the room.   
“Oh, aye, yes, I think we jus’ caught the daddy,” Wednesday heard him say, “Come ‘ere, ya wee jobbie.” Moments later, he emerged, a huge dead rat in his hand.   
“Gross,” Kili muttered whilst Wednesday took a deep breath against the sick feeling that washed over her.   
“I thought we’d got them all,” she said.   
“So did the exterminator, but this bastard’s been sighted for weeks,” Dwalin said, “Too smart for poison, but not for a bit of Dori’s ginger cake.” Holly babbled and reached out. Tauriel quickly pulled her arm back in. Dwalin grinned and bent down slightly.   
“You wanna play with the rat?” he joked, “Ya jus’ like your uncle Fili, disgusting.” He strode off, the rat still swinging in his hand. He returned a minute later, dusting his hands.   
“I’m gonna bring Earl in tonight,” he said, “If there’s any other beasties left, he’ll find them.”   
“Who’s Earl?” Wednesday asked.   
“Stop by my truck on your way out and he’ll introduce himself,” Dwalin grinned.

 

After a good look round with Dwalin explaining what was happening and going through the plan with Wednesday, they left. Wednesday was happy. They were on schedule to finish three weeks early at least. Dwalin walked out with them, explaining that the paint was slightly delayed but he planned to finish the floor before they painted the walls anyway. As they left, Wednesday spotted the large blue truck that said ‘Fundin and Sons’ on the side. She walked towards it, expecting to see someone sat inside but couldn’t see anything. She was only a few feet away when a large furry head appeared, making her jump back. A black and tan German Shepherd sat up to full height, yawned and barked at her, baring his teeth.   
“Wednesday, meet Earl,” Dwalin laughed as he approached the cab, “Oh, pipe down you!” He opened the cab door and the dog jumped out. He immediately went to Wednesday and started sniffing around her.   
“Hello, Earl,” she said, giggling as his wet nose sniffed at her hand.   
“I thought you used Duchess for vermin,” Kili said as he approached. Earl whined and bounded over to Kili, rearing up on his hind legs and placing his front paws on Kili’s shoulders. Kili patted Earl’s ribs as the huge dog sniffed his ears and licked his stubble. On his hind legs, Earl was almost as tall as Dwalin.   
“Aye, I do, but she’s nursin’ a litter at the moment,” Dwalin explained.   
“How many this time?” Kili asked as Earl dropped down and padded over to Tauriel.   
“Eleven, ten dogs, one bitch,” Dwalin said.   
“Ah, you were hoping to retire her weren’t you?” Kili asked. Behind him, Tauriel was having her hand sniffed by Earl.   
“This is only her second litter,” Dwalin shrugged, “Another year and half, she can have another. I’ll keep a bitch from that one to breed with Baron when she’s old enough.” Wednesday looked at Dwalin.   
“Breedin’ German Shepherds is a hobby of mine,” he said, “Earl’s my stud dog at the moment but he’s almost seven. Baron is my latest acquisition, you wander past the lumber yard and you’ll hear him. Duchess is my lady, my fine breeding bitch, perfect hip and elbow scores, a fantastic mother…” He trailed off.   
“I no have a wife, but Duchess is the love of my life,” he said quietly, “You should come meet her one day.”   
“Only if you want your lap filled with puppies,” Kili warned, “Duchess likes to show off her babies to anyone who comes by.”   
“You know I have a couple of pups still in need of homes,” Dwalin said, “Put the word out, I’d rather they go to good people I know.” Kili nodded.   
“And no, I don’t want one,” he said quickly, pointing a finger at Dwalin, “Stop trying to pawn them off on me.”   
“Why not get Holly a puppy for Christmas?” Dwalin joked.   
“I’ve seen the sides of Earl’s turds, I’m not picking that up!” Kili warned.   
“I’ve seen the size of your daughter’s,” Wednesday said, “I’d rather clean up dog poop.”

 

*

 

When Wednesday arrived home, via Bofur’s for a hot cup of tea where she was ‘forced’ to pet Earl for fifteen full minutes, she noticed that the car in the driveway was not Thranduil’s. In fact there were two cars she didn’t recognise. Feren’s Lexus was parked just before the driveway on the side of the road, as if it had been moved to make room. The first car she came to was a black BMW 3 series with lightly tinted windows, in front of that, a red Toyota C-HR Hybrid SUV. Thranduil’s beloved sports car was nowhere in sight. The front door opened and Thranduil stepped out.   
“What’s this?” Wednesday asked, pointing at the BMW.   
“That’s my new car,” he said, shrugging slightly.   
“And this one?” she pointed at the Toyota.   
“Yours,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a key.   
“Mine?”   
“I told you I was going to sort out a new car for you,” he said as he walked towards her.   
“But….how can you afford two brand new cars?” Wednesday spluttered.   
“I sold the sports car,” he said quietly, “And the Mercedes, and there was a couple of classic cars that my father left me that have been sitting in storage for the best part of a decade.”   
“Thranduil, you loved that car,” Wednesday said.   
“I love you more,” he said, “Besides, selling all of them and getting these, our fuel costs will halve and we have a little nest egg tucked away for when the baby comes now.”   
“Babe….”   
“Don’t,” Thranduil said, “I promised you a car, and I got you one. Jump in.” He tossed her the key.

 

She opened the door and got in. Everything was all shiny and new. The seats were comfortable, the back seat was spacious.   
“I was going to get you a 3-series like mine,” he said, “But when we found out you were pregnant, I cancelled it. I figured an SUV with a bigger trunk was more suitable.”   
“I would have been happy with an old banger,” she smiled.   
“I wouldn’t,” he said, “I barely trusted that old rust bucket of yours to get you home when we lived in the city. I’d hate to think of you breaking down in the middle of nowhere on your way here.”   
“Thank you,” she said, “You know you could probably get a car seat in the back of yours.”   
“Probably,” he agreed.


	44. The Kings of Lake Dale

Wednesday felt a small sense of pride as she read the article. Ori had done a wonderful job in the first public piece on Project Orcrist.  _ The Kings of Lake Dale _ was how he had titled it. It had detailed how Lake Dale had been prosperous, overseen by three community leaders: Oropher Elfking, Thrain Durinson and Girion Lakeman, then economic decline had hit, though the article deliberately did not name Smaug, and now the sons of these three men and their families were attempting to restore prosperity at great personal cost. It put the emphasis on family to gain the reader's sympathy too. It told how Thorin had helped raise his nephews after their father left the family, how Fili was in line to take over at Arkenstone. With Thranduil, it wove a story of love and loss, recalling the loss of Laurina years ago, but then moving swiftly on to how a grieving Thranduil pulled himself up to raise not only his son, but also adopting the daughter of his late friends and raising her as his own. It told how as young adults Kili and Tauriel met, fell in love and had started a family of their own.

 

_ The legacy of the Durinsons and Elfkings of Lake Dale seems secure in the birth of their daughter. _

 

It briefly mentioned Wednesday’s relationship with Thranduil and how her dance school was expected to open in the new year, a first for Lake Dale, and a boost to the arts in the community. There was a picture next to that particular paragraph that Wednesday really liked. It had been taken by the photographer without warning but it spoke volumes. Thranduil was stood facing the camera, Wednesday in front of him, facing away from it. She was holding his waist and one of his arms was wrapped around hers, his free hand tucked into his pocket. She was looking off to the side, at what, she couldn’t recall, but she was laughing. Thranduil was laughing too, but his eyes were fixed on her. It seemed so natural, and showed so much love between them that it brought a tear to Wednesday’s eye. Or it could have been hormones doing that, she wasn’t quite sure anymore. She had recently had her first appointment with the midwife at the local clinic. She was further along than she had previously thought. She had in fact been eight weeks when she had found out, now eleven. Neither her nor Gloria’s pregnancies were mentioned in the article.

 

She carried on reading, the article having now moved on to Bard. His was the real story to tug at a reader’s heartstrings. How his family had lost everything and he had been raising his family in poverty following the loss of his wife but was now prospering thanks to the investment by Orcrist. The pictures of him and his children were those of a loving family, having fun as most of them featured Tilda hanging off his back.

 

Her phone beeped. A text from Thranduil asking what she thought of it. She quickly replied that she thought it was wonderful, that it was sure to gain the attention they wanted, attention that would put Smaug off going near them. He responded with a smiley face. She was about to ask him when the article would be published when a call came up on the screen.

 

_ Feren calling…. _

 

She answered.   
“Feren! How’s your mother?” she asked. The young man had left abruptly a few days before after hearing news that his mother had suffered a stroke.   
“No change, no better but no worse,” he said, “Hey, why didn’t you and Thranduil tell me you were putting out a public engagement announcement?”   
“What?”   
“It’s trending on the society pages online,” Feren sounded concerned, “It says ‘Woodland Realm CEO Thranduil Elfking and entrepreneur Wednesday McQueen are pleased to announce their engagement. Mr Elfking and Ms McQueen met last year and were engaged this past summer. No wedding date has been set.’ You mean you two didn’t put this out?”   
“No!” Wednesday said, “We weren’t going to say anything until the interview he did with Bard and Thorin went out!”   
“Shit!” Feren muttered, “This isn’t good. And it’s no coincidence it’s happened less than a month after you left the city.”   
“What are you thinking?”   
“Smaug,” Feren said, “Please tell me the doors are locked.”   
“Of course,” Wednesday said, “Thranduil’s back in the city with Legolas for a few days for client meetings; he made me promise to keep them locked whilst he was gone.”   
“Good,” Feren replied, “Just double check all the windows. Anything suspicious, get out the house to somewhere safe. I’ve got to call Thranduil.”   
“Okay, but...” Feren was gone, and when Wednesday pulled her phone away from her ear she saw her phone battery had died. 

 

She clamboured off the bed and hurried to check the windows, wincing as she felt the pain in her belly. Damn round ligament pain! Between that and the leg cramps, she wasn’t getting much sleep. She often wondered how something the size of a lime could cause so much pain! After checking upstairs, she made her way down, keeping a careful ear open for any unusual noises. All the windows were secured and she sat down on a stool at the kitchen island. Five minutes and she was wiped. She didn’t know how she was going to handle almost another thirty weeks of this. She glanced up and spotted the ultrasound picture on the fridge. She smiled. She could see the arms and legs and the little head. 

 

Seeing the ultrasound for the first time had been moving. Thranduil had gone silent and still, staring at the screen, his mouth slightly open. Wednesday could tell he had fallen head over heels the moment he had heard the rapid  _ thwump-thwump  _ sound because she had too. That was their baby in there. It was all suddenly very real, and she had been scared. So she had begged Thranduil not to let on about her pregnancy to anyone, especially not at the interview. The last thing she needed was Ori accidentally spilling the beans or the photographer getting a picture of Thranduil touching her belly as he so often did when they were alone. It had been hard for him, she knew his instincts were screaming at him to protect her, to shield her and their baby from anyone who might hurt them.

 

A knock at the door made her jump.   
“Wednesday, it’s me,” came Thorin’s voice. She hurried to the door. Thorin stood there, bundled up against the rapidly chilling weather. She opened the door and invited him in.   
“Are you alright?” he asked, “I just got a call from Thranduil, he said he couldn’t reach you.” She nodded.   
“Yeah, my phone died. But the doors and windows are all secured,” she said.   
“How are you feeling?” he asked. He’d picked up on her pregnancy on his own, though Wednesday assumed it was because she was less than three months behind Gloria. He recognised the symptoms.   
“Tired, everything hurts,” she admitted, “But nothing I should be worried about.” Thorin nodded.   
“Maybe I should double check everything,” he said, “Not that I don’t trust you, but fresh set of eyes and all that.”   
“That’s fine,” she replied. Thorin shrugged off his coat.   
“At least it’s only your engagement that’s gotten out,” he said, “If Smaug found out you…” He stopped, sensing that he was tapping into a fear. He quickly headed off to check the windows.   
“Next week I’ll be as far along as Laurina was,” she found herself saying as she turned to look after him. Thorin paused, running one hand over his chin before turning back to her.   
“Thranduil says that they think it was Smaug that killed her,” she continued, suddenly unable to stop, “I’m scared he’s going to find out and I don’t want Thranduil to go through that again.” She sobbed, her head dropping into her hands. Thorin strode towards her and put his arms around her.   
“It’s alright,” he whispered, “No harm will come to you, I promise, or your baby. We know what Smaug is capable of now, we didn’t back then. You and your baby are safe here.” He rubbed her back soothingly and, as quickly as it had come, the fear melted away.   
“Sorry,” she said, stepping back, “Mood swings.” He chuckled.   
“Not the worst thing I have to deal with at the moment,” he said.   
“How is Gloria?” Wednesday asked, “I’ve been meaning to come to see her but...well, I’m so tired all the time.”   
“She’s fine,” Thorin said, “Aside from swollen ankles and her back starting to ache constantly, she’s fine. I could do without the increased libido though.”   
“Oh no!” Wednesday laughed, “I bet that’s awkward.”   
“Somedays I honestly can’t tell if she wants to hump me or eat me,” he joked, “I have to occasionally throw Bilbo in as a human shield.”   
“How’s he dealing with it all?”   
“You mean the sex drive? He thinks it’s hilarious that she keeps trying to hit on me,” Thorin said as he stepped away, heading towards the living room, “He knows I won’t give in to her so it’s quite comical for him to watch. I’ve had to ban Fili from visiting without me being there. He’s not above taking advantage of her hormones.”   
“Fili? No, she won’t even bother,” Wednesday said before realising what she had said. Thorin glanced at her.   
“She already told me about his little visit,” he said, a small smirk on his face, “Thirty seconds? Either you’re that good, or he really does need a girlfriend.”   
“I think it’s the latter,” Wednesday laughed, relieved that he found it funny too, “Thran….actually I probably shouldn’t make that comparison.” Thorin laughed and continued checking the windows, Wednesday following him round slowly so as not to get winded again.

 

Thorin soon finished and was satisfied that everything was safe.   
“Thranduil said he’ll be back around noon tomorrow,” he said as he pulled his coat back on, “He rescheduled his last meeting to be a video call so he’ll leave first thing in the morning. I’ll let him know your phone died. Stay safe.”   
“Thank you Thorin,” she said, “You know, for saying you two were such big rivals, you’re awfully close now.” Thorin paused.   
“There are some things more important than rivalry,” he said after a moment, “Thranduil and I didn’t put aside our past differences purely for profit. We did it for Holly, for Kili and Tauriel. The fact they felt they had to lie to our faces for six years, to hide their relationship. It made us both take a step back and look at what it was doing to our loved ones.” He stepped closer.   
“We won’t be around forever,” he said softly as his hand brushed her stomach, “Life is too short to hold old grudges, and we mean to make a better world for our children. Good night Wednesday.” He opened the door and stepped out. He waited until he saw Wednesday lock the door behind him and then strode off into the darkening night.


	45. Wrong Side of The Bed

Wednesday was leaning over the toilet when Thranduil arrived home the following day.   
“What were you thinking, not charging your phone?!” he bellowed as he stomped up the stairs, “Smaug is out there or did you forget that?”    
“Oh just shut up,” Wednesday muttered, willing herself not to throw up. The bedroom door opened, shortly followed by the bathroom door.   
“Did you hear me?” he asked and she felt her head throb.   
“I heard a herd of fucking elephants come clattering up the stairs,” she managed before retching.   
“Seriously, why would you let your phone get that low?”   
“I couldn’t remember where I left my charger, alright?!” she snapped, squatting down, “Besides, if you’re so fucking worried, get a fucking landline installed.” She glanced at her watch; he was back almost an hour early.   
“Have you eaten yet today?” he asked. His tone hadn’t changed and it was rubbing Wednesday the wrong way. She’d woken up in a foul mood and feeling sick and tired all the time wasn’t helping.   
“No, I haven’t made it downstairs yet,” she said through gritted teeth.   
“Wednesday, you know you need to eat,” he said, crouching down next to her, “It’s not just you anymore, it’s our baby too.” His hand reached out to touch her stomach and she felt her temper snap. She shoved his hand away.   
“Don’t fucking touch me,” she growled, “I’ve had enough of you pawing at me every second of the day. You put this baby in me and I’m doing all the fucking work. How about you go downstairs and wait for all those speeding citations you’re bound to get for getting here so quickly, and that we can’t fucking afford?!”   
“What did you say to me?”   
“Get the fuck out!” she screamed. He instantly backed off. He turned on his heel and stormed off downstairs, grabbing his coat from where he’d thrown in and heading out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

 

He stormed off towards the lake. He hadn’t gotten far when he heard someone behind him.   
“Thran! Thranduil!” It was Bard and Thranduil’s heart sank. He had briefly hoped it was Wednesday. He didn’t stop and continued stomping through the undergrowth.   
“That’s got to be some kind of record,” Bard said, “Legolas said you went from ‘Honey, I’m home’ to World War Three with the missus in thirty seconds!”   
“Leave me alone, Bard,” he grumbled.   
“Look, I’m just heading over to Dwalin’s,” Bard said, “He just got a new pool table, come with me, we can shoot a few holes, chat, you can calm down. Wednesday can calm down and then later, you can come back, kiss, makeup and maybe finally push Legolas to move out.” Thranduil stopped and took a few deep breaths.   
“Fine,” he said. He turned and followed Bard through the undergrowth back to the main road. 

 

They arrived at Dwalin’s house within fifteen minutes. The older man made no comment when Thranduil followed Bard in, just raised an eyebrow at Bard, who shrugged. Thranduil sat in silence as the two other men set up the pool table for a game. He was angry. All he wanted was for Wednesday to be happy, healthy and safe. And she didn’t seem to appreciate that! A wet nose on his hand made him jump and he looked down. Duchess, Dwalin’s beloved dog, was looking up at him, her head tilted to one side as she looked at him with inquisitive eyes. She sat down and held up her paw to him. He turned his hand over and she laid her paw on his palm. Her toes flexed and Thranduil chuckled, it was like she was trying to hold his hand.   
“Ah, that’s a good girl, Duchess,” Dwalin said as he lined up a shot, “You make him feel better.” Duchess let out a little whine and lowered her head. Thranduil reached out and scratched her ears. She let out a small bark, withdrew her paw and trotted off.   
“So, you going to tell us what happened?” Dwalin asked.   
“Wednesday and I had a fight,” Thranduil admitted.   
“You two? Really? Huh, never thought she could get angry,” Dwalin said.   
“She can, it’s just never been aimed at me before,” he replied, “I didn’t like it, and I was a bit harsh.”   
“Is this the whole phone dying thing Thorin mentioned?” Dwalin asked as he made his shot.   
“Yes,” Thranduil said, “Amongst other things. She doesn’t seem to appreciate that all I want is for her to be safe.”   
“Stay here and give yourselves time to calm down,” Dwalin said as he lined up the next one. Thranduil felt a nudge on his leg.   
“Thank you, Dwalin,” he said, ignoring it, “God, I hope I didn’t get clocked speeding. She’s right, I couldn’t afford that right now, not with…” He caught himself. They didn’t know about the pregnancy yet. Another nudge at his leg.   
“Actually Thorin has some news that you might like, he’ll be round in a bit,” Dwalin said, another nudge to Thranduil’s leg,“Thranduil, will you just pet the damn puppy already?!” 

 

Thranduil glanced down. Duchess sat in front of him, a small ball of black fluff in her mouth. She dropped it in his lap. It moved and made a little whining noise.   
“What’s this?” Thranduil asked.   
“It’s one of her babies,” Dwalin said, “Anyone gets upset, she goes and fetches a puppy for them to pet. Good for stress.” Thranduil hesitated before stroking one finger over the small head. The pup whined again and moved to move closer to him. He saw its eyes were still closed.   
“She isn’t going to reject it is she?” he asked.   
“Nah, she brought it to you,” Dwalin said, “She’s a good mama.” Duchess nudged her pup closer to Thranduil before looking up at him.   
“Thank you, Duchess,” he said, “It’s a very nice puppy. You did a good job.” Duchess let out a bark and trotted off. 

 

She came back a few moments later, leading in Thorin who had his phone to his ear.   
“No, no it’s fine,” he said, “Take all the time you need. No, it’s no bother. Well, I can’t believe that.” Duchess trotted over to Thranduil and dropped another puppy onto his lap.   
“Uh, Dwalin?”   
“Ah, shite, Duchess, no, he doesn’t want all your babies,” Dwalin said, dropping his cue and running over. Duchess whined and picked up the second pup. Dwalin picked up the other wriggling fluff ball from Thranduil’s lap.   
“C’mon now,” Dwalin said, “Let’s put them back.” Duchess followed him as he led her back out the room.    
“Alright, I’ll see you soon,” Thorin said from by the door, “I love you.” He hung up and moved to sit next to Thranduil.   
“Where is Bilbo?” Bard asked, circling the pool table, “Not seen him for a while.”   
“He’s been at a family reunion for the past week,” Thorin said, “But, there was an accident yesterday. His cousin, Primula, and her husband. They were out on the lake when they had a disagreement. It turned into a full-blown argument and the boat capsized. They both drowned.”   
“That’s terrible,” Thranduil said quietly. Suddenly his argument with Wednesday didn’t seem important and all he wanted to do was hold her and apologize. Thorin was nodding next to him.   
“He’s staying a little longer to help organise everything,” he continued, “But, so far, only his ninety-something grandfather has even offered to take on Primula’s son.”   
“Oh, is that….”   
“Frodo,” Thorin said, “Yes. But Gerontius can’t keep up with a three year old boy. So Bilbo has offered to take him. The rest of the family don’t seem to care if Frodo ends up in care or not.”   
“Ah, family,” Bard chuckled sarcastically. Dwalin returned, no puppies in sight.   
“You’ve got a visitor,” he said to Thranduil, stepping to one side. Wednesday stood behind him. 

 

Thranduil scrambled to his feet and rushed over to her.   
“I’m sorry,” he said, wrapping his arms around her, “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. And you were right, speeding like that was stupid and reckless.”   
“I’m sorry too,” she replied, her voice muffled by his shoulder as she clung to him, “I woke up on the wrong side of bed and I know you’re only looking out for me.” Thranduil pulled back and kissed her gently.   
“I found my phone charger by the way,” Wednesday said, “It was in your car; you had it the whole time. Remember, we went to the store the day before you went.”   
“Ah,” said Thranduil as he heard the sniggers ripple around the room, “Then I am even more sorry.”   
“I forgive you,” she said, “I’m just sick and tired of feeling sick and tired.”   
“I know,” he said softly before leaning in to whisper, “It’ll be worth it in the end.” Wednesday smiled.   
“Please come home,” she said, “Legolas is terrible company.”   
“Alright then,” he said, “Gentlemen, I will see you all later.” The men said their goodbyes and they left.

 

*

 

The walk back home took longer as Thranduil had slowed his pace so Wednesday didn’t have to power walk to keep up. They didn’t speak, just enjoyed the peace of Lake Dale as it surrounded them. Eventually, Thranduil stopped.   
“What’s wrong?” Wednesday asked.   
“I just need to…” he didn’t finish his sentence, he just stepped toward her. His hand slipped under her shirt, resting on her lower abdomen. He let out a contented sigh.   
“You know, I’m starting to see a change,” he breathed after a moment.   
“How do you mean?” she asked.   
“I noticed it last week, right before we had the interview,” he said, “Your bump is starting to appear.” She raised an eyebrow.   
“Well, not an actual bump,” he said, “But your stomach isn’t as flat anymore.”   
“Is that why you’ve been obsessed with my belly?” Thranduil nodded.   
“It seems so real when I run my fingers over your skin and I feel that little swell that’s coming in,” he said softly, “I can’t wait to share our news with all our friends, I’ve been wanting to shout it from the rooftops for the last three weeks. I love you so much.” His hand dropped and he tilted her head back, kissing her deeply.   
“I’ll get a landline put in,” he said, “And I’ll get you a spare charger so you can keep one in our bedroom at all times. And I’ll try not to speed when I’m worried about you.”   
“And I’ll try to not let everything get the better of me,” she said, “We have the money from the cars, we can dip into that if we need to pay some speeding tickets.” Thranduil’s phone beeped. He pulled it out.   
“It’s Legolas,” he said, “He says to come home right away.” He tucked his phone back into his pocket and took her hand, leading the way.

 

A strange silver car was parked at the end of the driveway when they got home. A wave of fear washed over her as they got near the door. Her gut was telling her something was wrong and she clung to Thranduil’s arm. Legolas was lurking near the kitchen as they came in.   
“She arrived about five minutes after you left,” he said to Wednesday, leading them towards the living room. Wednesday released Thranduil’s hand and she stepped in front of him as she recognised the woman. Sure, she was a little older, a few more wrinkles in the face, the hair a little more streaked with white, but Wednesday knew her. She rose to her feet from where she had been sat.   
“Hello Wednesday,” she said with a broad smile. Wednesday could only stare for a moment before finding her voice.   
“Mom.”

 


	46. Victoria

“Mom,” Wednesday managed to speak finally, staring at a woman she had not seen in over twenty years. She felt Thranduil’s fingers brush against hers, bringing her out of her daze.   
“Umm, what are you doing here?” Wednesday asked. What else was she supposed to ask the woman who walked out of her life when she was nine?   
“Well,” said her mother, “I read about your engagement and thought I should come congratulate you. And meet the man you’ve agreed to marry. So, this is Thranduil?” Wednesday looked over her shoulder at him and he looked down at her.   
“Help me,” she mouthed. Thranduil smiled and looked back to the other woman.   
“Yes, I am,” he said, “A pleasure to meet you. I see you have already met my son, Legolas.” On the surface, his words seemed friendly but Wednesday knew he was just waiting for this stranger to give him reason to throw her out.   
“Yes, forgive me for not introducing myself, I am Victoria,” her mother replied, holding out a hand to Thranduil. He shook her hand.   
“Please, sit down,” he said, “Wednesday, will you take our coats upstairs please?” He shrugged off his coat and handed it to her. She smiled at him in appreciation. He was giving her an out. She took his coat and headed for the stairs. 

 

She took the coats to their bedroom and checked her phone. Now she had her charger back, it had power and she skimmed through the messages that Thranduil had sent the night before when he hadn’t been able to get hold of her. She felt a twinge of guilt as she read the increasing desperation in the messages. There were a few voicemail messages from him too but she didn’t want to listen to them just yet. She leaned back on the bed and took a few deep breaths. She had never considered her mother making a reappearance. After twenty years, she didn’t know what to say. It was nice that she was alive but the last few months had really jaded Wednesday’s view of the world. Victoria’s sudden return less than twenty-four hours after someone, potentially Smaug, had revealed their engagement couldn’t be a coincidence. Wednesday stood up, suddenly restless but at the same time, apprehensive about going back downstairs. She paced the room a little. She trusted Thranduil; if he suspected Victoria’s intentions were less than honorable, he’d get rid of her. But at the same time, this was her mother, she should deal with her. As she paced, the full-length mirror on the closet door caught her attention. She turned to the side and lifted her shirt. She could just about see it, the little swell that Thranduil had mentioned. It didn’t look like a bump, more like bloating, or she had just pigged out on a large meal. She ran her hand over it and felt her resolve harden. She couldn’t leave this to Thranduil, she needed to step up. If her mother genuinely wanted to be back in her life, fantastic, her baby would have it’s grandmother in its life. If Victoria had an ulterior motive, then that toxic influence needed to be got rid of as soon as possible.

 

She headed back out the room. She could hear Thranduil making polite small talk with her mother as she started to descend.   
“Be honest now, Victoria,” he said as Wednesday reached the halfway point, “Some may imagine you are here for a noble reason, to reconnect with your daughter. I, myself, suspect a more prosaic motive, coercion, or something of that ilk. You hear your daughter is engaged to be married to me, someone not unknown to the public eye if fortunes are of interest, and after twenty-one years, you decide to return. Was it not enough to take the money your ex-husband had set aside for her? Now you must come after more.” Victoria didn’t reply. Wednesday continued down the stairs. Legolas was lurking in the kitchen, watching as he sipped his drink and worked on his laptop.   
“Hey Wednesday,” he said loudly as she approached. Wednesday rounded the corner to find her mother seated in an armchair, Thranduil stood just behind her, his hands behind his back. He reminded Wednesday briefly of a large predator, circling a weak member of the herd.   
“What did I miss?” she asked brightly.   
“Your mother and I were just chatting,” Thranduil said. His phone beeped and he pulled it out of his pocket.   
“It’s Thorin,” he said, “I’ll go call him, leave you two to catch up.” He moved towards Wednesday, brushing his lips across her cheek as he passed. 

 

She watched him go, Legolas following him.   
“So, Mom,” Wednesday said, turning back, “Where have you been for the last twenty years?” Victoria scoffed.   
“Oh, you sound just like him,” she said, “Why must I have ulterior motives to reconnect with my daughter?”   
“I’m going to refer back to my twenty years comment,” Wednesday said, dropping any pretense of friendliness and folding her arms across her chest.   
“I came to make sure you made a good match,” Victoria said, having the decency to look offended, “To make sure that he can take care of you. You’ve made a mistake.”   
“How do you mean?” Wednesday asked.   
“He’s a lot older than you, and he has a grown son,” Victoria stated, “It’ll happen. Sooner or later, something younger and prettier will come along and he’ll lose interest in you. Not to mention he’ll have no interest in having a child with you.”   
“What do you mean by that?” Wednesday could feel anger bubbling up inside her.   
“He has an adult son, he’s done with that,” Victoria replied, “He won’t plan any more children with you. The best you can do is stop taking whatever birth control you’re on, poke holes in his condoms, whatever. Get pregnant. At least that way when he tosses you aside, you’ll have some support.” Wednesday felt horrified that this was even a thought her mother had had.   
“How can you suggest that?!” she spluttered, “Not that it’s even any of your business, but that’s a betrayal of trust on so many levels!”   
“Trust? What has trust got to do with this?” Victoria snapped, standing up, “I’m trying to make sure you’re taken care of.”   
“I don’t want to hear this,” Wednesday said, turning away and heading into the kitchen.   
“You need a say in how he runs that company of his too,” Victoria continued, following her, “Either you, or someone with your interests in mind. To make sure he doesn’t run it into the ground. I would do that for you…”   
“Oh, and now we come to the crux of the matter!” Wednesday snarled, whirling around to face her, “You’re after money! You want in at Woodland Realm to get money out of him! It’s always like that with you! You did it to Daddy, now you’re trying to do it to Thranduil!”   
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Victoria said, dismissively waving one hand.   
“No, I do!” Wednesday shouted, “I remember every argument, every crossword between the two of you, and it was always about money. Because he put it away for me, and gave you none! So you left him, and took it all anyway.”   
“You don’t know what it's like to survive on nothing…”   
“I do know what it’s like!” Wednesday took several steps closer to her, getting right in her face, “I lived hand to mouth for years when Daddy got sick so I could take care of him. I lived in a shitty apartment, I scrimped on food, I drove a car that ran on fumes and hope. I don’t need Thranduil to survive, I can do just fine on my own. Unlike you, I know how to work hard and live within my means. Now, get out of my house.” She pointed towards the door. Her mother gave her a derisive look.   
“This isn’t your house,” Victoria sneered.   
“Yes, it is. And it is also mine,” Thranduil reappeared, his face as hard as stone as he approached, “You have overstayed your welcome now, Victoria. Get out!” Wednesday could see the fire in his eyes as he stared down at her mother.

 

Victoria blinked first, looking away and brushing past Wednesday to collect her coat and purse. Wednesday’s heart was hammering in her chest as her mother moved around. Her hands were shaking as she turned to watch the woman go. Her mother looked at her briefly.   
“Good luck,” she said, venom in her voice, before turning and storming out the door, slamming it behind her. Wednesday moved to look out the glass, watching as her mother got into her car and left. Relief washed over her as the car disappeared into the distance. She let out a small cry, clamping her hand over her mouth as she did. Within seconds, she felt Thranduil’s arms encircle her.   
“It’s alright,” he whispered, “I’m here, you’re okay.”   
“She’s as vile as I remember,” Wednesday choked out, “Did you hear what she said?”   
“Every word,” he replied, one hand dropping down to stroke over her stomach, “Don’t worry, she’ll never come near you again, I promise, and she will never set eyes on our baby.” Wednesday’s hand lay over his as he kissed her temple.   
“She wanted me to lie to you, to trick you into something she believed you didn’t want,” Wednesday said, her voice shaking.   
“I heard,” he said softly, “Wednesday, I promise, I want this baby as much as you do. I’m in no way ‘done with that’, and I will never cast you aside like she said.” He turned her in his arms and rested his forehead against hers.   
“I love you,” he whispered, “Remember that.” He kissed her gently before leading her back into the living room.   
“Come, sit,” he said, “You’re shaking. Do you want something to drink?” Wednesday shook his head.   
“Just you,” she said. Thranduil nodded, settling onto the couch with her curled up at his side, his arms around her.

 

They sat like that for a long time, Wednesday eventually drifting off with her head in his lap. She woke up, feeling Thranduil’s fingers combing through her hair as he spoke.   
“Was it a silver car?” he asked.   
“Yeah, with some crazy-looking woman behind the wheel,” came Thorin’s voice. Wednesday didn’t move or open her eyes; she was far too comfortable.   
“Yes, that was Wednesday’s mother,” Thranduil replied.   
“She’s alive? I thought she was dead,” Thorin sounded surprised.   
“Today would have been a lot less traumatic if she were,” Thranduil’s response was low and grumbly, “She turned up, suggesting to Wednesday that she should trick me into having a child with her and put her mother on the board at Woodland Realm.”   
“Money then?” Thorin asked.   
“Undoubtedly,” Thranduil replied, “Needless to say, she was told in no uncertain terms where she could shove her ideas.”   
“I bet you did.”   
“Not me, Wednesday.”   
“Wednesday? Ohh, having been on the receiving end of her temper, it’ll be a long time if ever before you see her again.”   
“Then how come you’re still around?” Wednesday asked, opening her eyes and rolling slightly to look at Thorin. He smiled at her.   
“Because I’m made of sterner stuff than your mother,” he said, “Are you feeling okay?”   
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Wednesday said, sitting up, “I could use some water though.”   
“I’ll get you some,” Thranduil said, kissing her forehead and standing up.    
“So, to what do we owe this visit?” Wednesday asked as he walked away.   
“I have some good news,” Thorin said, “Another cousin of mine, Dain, has reached out. He wants to get involved with Orcrist. The amount of cash he’s offering means that Thranduil and I can cut down our future contributions to a third of what they are now.”   
“Which, with a baby on the way, is very welcome news indeed,” said Thranduil from the kitchen, “It means a smaller share in the profits later down the line, but children are not fed and kept warm by the promise of future funds.”   
“Well, it’s your money, so if you’re happy to do that,” Wednesday said.   
“I am,” Thranduil said. Thorin nodded.   
“I’ll call him later then,” he said, “Gloria also wanted me to ask if you wanted to meet up for a ‘girly day’.” Thranduil returned with a glass of water and handed it to Wednesday.   
“That’d be nice,” she said, “I haven’t been out much since we moved here.”   
“I’ll let her know,” Thorin smiled, “And I’ll spread the word about your mother. If she ever shows her face around here again, we’ll know and she won’t feel welcome.”   
“Thank you Thorin.”

 

*

 

“What are you doing?” Thranduil asked. Wednesday looked up. He was stood at the bottom of the stairs, smiling at her gently.   
“Cooking dinner,” she replied, “To apologise for being so horrible this morning.”   
“Now we both apologised for that already,” he said.   
“I know, but I wanted to make it up to you anyway,” she said, shrugging, “Don’t worry, it’s nothing too strenuous, it’s just pasta.” He walked over, placing his hands on her hips and kissing her neck as she stirred.   
“It smells delicious,” he said softly before kissing her neck again. Wednesday sighed and leaned her head back as his teeth grazed her neck. He reached around her and turned the heat down on the stove before removing the spoon from her hand. His own roamed upwards, gently cupping her breasts through her clothes.   
“I’ve missed you,” he breathed, turning her around. He kissed her hungrily, pulling her away from the stove and closer to him. Wednesday’s hands ran through his hair as he pressed his lips harder against hers, his tongue sliding between them. Heat coursed through Wednesday’s veins and she trailed her hands down his back. She could feel the hard bulge pressing against her stomach and rolled her hips against him. He gasped a little before lifting her up. He moved and set her on the counter.   
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered as he kissed her again, his fingers digging into the waistband of her leggings, “I love you.”   
“Beyond all reason,” she smiled. 

 

He groaned and tugged her closer to the edge of the counter. She nipped at his lower lip as he tugged her leggings down, off one leg and down to the ankle on the other. His fingers slid between her legs.   
“Oh fuck baby,” he muttered when he found her wet and wanting, “I’ve wanted to do this in here with you for so long.” He reached up and squeezed one breast, making her whimper,   
“Fuck,” he cursed, kissing her greedily as he fumbled with his pants, shifting them enough to free himself, “Come here you!” He pulled her right to the edge of the counter, hooking her legs over his hips. The tip of his cock nudged against her, making Wednesday lean her head back and moan.   
“That’s it baby,” he whispered, “I’m going to make you scream.” An arrogant smirk crossed his face as he pressed his hips deeper into hers. Wednesday bit her lip and whimpered, her hands sliding around his neck. He rocked against her gently, savouring the feel of her warm and welcoming body opening and closing around him.   
“Yes,” she breathed in his ear, “Oh, yes, baby, that’s so good.” Her legs crossed behind him, pulling him in closer as her body tightened around him. She began to whimper and moan as he pounded into her, his face buried in her neck, his grunts muffled.   
“Oh fuck,” he groaned as he felt an involuntary clench around his member, “Are you going to come?” Wednesday nodded, whimpering again.   
“Come on then, come for me, my love,” he whispered, “My queen.” Wednesday’s fingers dug into his shoulders and her hips bucked dramatically against him.   
“Fuck, baby, yes,” she moaned, “Yes, make me come, please. Make me come!” He grunted, his hips snapping into hers as she let out a small cry. He quickly smothered it with a kiss as he rode out her orgasm. He stiffened in her arms, crying out himself as he pumped his release inside her.

 

When they had both recovered their breath, he pulled back, sliding from her as he kissed her.   
“That was incredible,” he said softly as he dressed himself before helping her.   
“I know,” she said, “Oh, god, I hope Legolas didn’t hear!”   
“He did!” Legolas’ voice called from upstairs, “I don’t want to know!” Thranduil chuckled.   
“Just think, this might just push him to move out,” he whispered in her ear before moving to stir the sauce that had begun to bubble in the pan. Wednesday followed him, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head on his back. She heard a contented sound come from him and she snuggled in closer. Their peace was disturbed by Legolas coming clattering down the stairs.    
“Uh, I think we have a problem,” he said, striding in and placing his laptop on the island. He glanced over at the fridge and swallowed nervously. Wednesday released Thranduil and looked in the same direction. That was when she noticed.   
“Where’s the scan picture gone?” she asked.   
“That’s where we have a problem,” Legolas said, “I called Feren, told him about your mom’s little visit. He just sent me a link. It’s for her social media page.” He turned the laptop around. Wednesday instantly recognised her ultrasound scan. It even had her name and the date at the top. She felt sick as she saw the caption that had been added to it.   
_ Can’t wait to meet this little one; my first grandchild! _

She saw Thranduil’s fists clench at his sides.   
“She’s unbelievable,” he muttered.   
“That’s not all of it,” Legolas said, spinning the laptop back around and clicking, “Her profiles completely open. I can see everything, current location, date of birth, she’s knocked two years off her age by the way. Relationship status is interesting.” He turned the laptop back around.   
“Engaged to Zak...wait, Zak Stonebridge?! As in…” Thranduil read. Wednesday closed her eyes, a wave of nausea washing over her.   
“As in Fili and Kili’s father, yes,” Legolas muttered, “But, Dad, I can see her current employer too. It’s listed as Wyrm Enterprises. Wednesday’s mom works for Smaug.”


	47. A Hundred Times

Wednesday couldn’t sleep. Not with a six foot five, two-hundred pound mass of tension in bed beside her. Every so often she would hear the click as he refreshed the page on his laptop. Shortly after discovering her mother had stolen her ultrasound scan of the baby, a comment had appeared on the picture from Zak Stonebridge.

 

_ Can’t wait for our grandchildren to play together. _

 

Thranduil had lost control of his temper. He’d almost sent Legolas’ laptop flying across the house, only for Legolas to catch it before it bounced off the floor and was irreparably damaged. He’d stormed into his study, slamming the door shut, ranting and raving whilst Wednesday fought the urge to vomit. She had been in bed long before he’d emerged, worn out by the stresses of the day but still unable to sleep. Now he sat in bed, laptop with him, staring at the page. Her bladder began to protest and she began to fidget.   
“Are you alright?” he asked, his gaze not moving from the screen even as she threw back the covers and got up.   
“Got to pee,” she muttered as she headed for the bathroom. She heard him curse as she shut the door. She wanted to cry. It was getting too much for her; Smaug, being pregnant, even the dance school was becoming more demanding and it wasn’t even open yet! She dropped her pyjama shorts and sat down, rubbing her face with her hands. Could she get a restraining order against her mother? Zak had been ordered to stay away at his divorce hearing so it was possible Smaug was using her mother as his new spy. She finished her business and went to pull up her shorts when she spotted the bright red spots that stained them.   
“Oh no,” she whispered, her heart seizing, “No, no, no, no!”   
“Wednesday?” Thranduil’s voice called as she felt tears prick at her eyes.   
“We need to go to the hospital,” she said, her voice shaking as she stood, stepping out of the shorts.   
“What? What’s wrong?” she could hear him drop the laptop on the bed and stand up, the floor boards creaking.   
“Babe, I’m bleeding,” she replied, her breath catching in her throat.   
“Shit,” she heard him mutter before moving around.

 

The bathroom door opened and he stood there, his eyes dropping to the shorts by her feet.   
“Oh shit, baby,” he muttered, “What do you need?”   
“Get dressed and start the car, I’ll meet you there,” she said, taking deep breaths, trying to stay calm. He backed up as she stepped past him and began to get dressed quickly. She looked up and he still hadn’t moved.   
“Babe,” she said firmly, bringing his eyes up to hers, “We need to go.” For a brief moment, he looked like his heart was breaking but it quickly disappeared. He got dressed and headed out the bedroom as Wednesday pulled on a hoodie. She heard Legolas briefly emerge from his room to ask what was going on. Thranduil replied as he headed down the stairs. Legolas was still looking when she followed Thranduil. But he didn’t say anything and she headed down. 

 

Thranduil started the car and backed out of the drive without a word. In fact their journey was silent until they left Lake Dale and were on the open road for the thirty mile journey to the nearest hospital. It was Wednesday’s choked sob that broke the silence. Thranduil immediately reached out one arm and place his hand on her belly.   
“I don’t want to lose the baby,” she sobbed.   
“I know, I know,” he said softly, “Just hold on. We’ll get there soon.” She heard engine rev as he put his foot down, but she didn’t care about his speed.   
“Just hold on, baby,” he kept saying, his thumb stroking back and forth over her stomach. All her frustrations came pouring out. She let the tears flow as she swore over and over that she would take anything Smaug sent their way a hundred times if it only meant their child would live. Thranduil remained silent, knowing she had to let it all out. Just like he had on her birthday, when he had vented all his frustrations about not being able to save Laurina and their child. He kept his eyes on the road but his hand remained on her.

 

Thranduil didn’t even bother attempting to park straight once they arrived at the hospital. The parking lot was virtually empty thankfully. His hand linked with hers as they walked swiftly to the entrance, his fingers clinging tightly to hers. The receptionist looked up with a bright smile for such a late hour.   
“How can I help?” she asked.   
“Um, I’m eleven weeks pregnant and I’ve started bleeding,” Wednesday said quietly. The woman in front of her went solemn.   
“Alright, just a few forms to fill in and I’ll have someone come check you over as soon as we can,” she said, handing over a clipboard which Thranduil took, “We’ll do everything we can.”   
“Thank you,” Wednesday replied before following Thranduil over to the plastic chairs and sitting down. Thranduil took the pen that was attached and started filling the form in for her. Wednesday looked around. The waiting room was fairly empty and quiet.   
“If I….If I am losing the baby, is there anything they can do?” she found herself asking. She heard the pen stop moving and Thranduil’s sharp intake of breath. He hesitated.   
“Don’t answer me, please,” she said quickly, sinking her head into her hands. Thranduil finished filling in the forms and stood up. He tossed the clipboard on to the reception desk and strode back over to Wednesday. He didn’t sit next to her, instead he crouched down in front of her, his arms sliding along her thighs and his head resting against hers. She didn’t lift her head from her hands and felt her shoulders shake as she fought against her tears again.   
“Shhhh,” he whispered, “Everything will be ok. I promise.” He kissed her hair gently.

 

“Ms McQueen?” a voice called, making them both look up. Thranduil rose to his feet and offered his hand to Wednesday. They approached the doctor who had called them.   
“Hi, I’m Doctor Shaw,” she introduced herself, “Come with me, and we’ll get you checked out.” She led them out the waiting room and into a corridor before directing them into an examination room.   
“Alright, if you just get on the bed, Ms McQueen, I’m going to give you a quick exam while we wait for the ultrasound scanner,” Shaw said, “Are you happy for….sorry, sir, what’s your name?”   
“Thranduil,” he answered.   
“Are you happy for Thranduil to stay?” Shaw asked.   
“Yes,” Wednesday answered, gripping his hand quickly.   
“That’s fine, just take off your bottoms and get on the bed,” Doctor Shaw said, “Are you the father, Thranduil?” He nodded. Wednesday shucked off the sweat pants and underwear she had put on and got settled on the examination bed.

 

Thranduil stood by her head, holding her hand as Doctor Shaw worked.   
“Well, you don’t seem to be bleeding much now,” she commented, “And everything else seems okay. Personal question time but have you two had sex in the last twenty four hours?” Wednesday noticed her give Thranduil a quick look up and down as she spoke.   
“Yeah, this afternoon,” Wednesday replied.   
“I think I know whats happened,” the doctor said, smiling, “I think your cervix has been irritated and that’s what’s caused the bleeding. We’ll do a scan anyway just to confirm but, and I’m about to stroke Thranduil’s ego, you look like a big boy, you need to go easy on her in the future.”   
“So, I’m not lo….”   
“No, I don’t think so, miscarriages are usually accompanied by abdominal pain and tissue in the blood,” Shaw said, “You can keep having sex, but you need to go gently.” Wednesday let out a sigh of relief and looked over at Thranduil. He wasn’t smiling, he was smirking.   
“Oh my god,” she said, “We come here because I thought I was miscarrying and you get your ego stroked.” He burst out laughing. Wednesday fought to keep a straight face but couldn’t help it. With the worry lifted off her shoulders, it just tickled her. Even the doctor had a little chuckle as she finished up the exam and moved to help Wednesday sit back up.   
“I’ll be right back to give you your scan, you can put your clothes back on,” she said before slipping from the road. 

 

Thranduil was still chuckling as Wednesday put her clothes back on so she smacked his shoulder.   
“Why are you hitting me?” he laughed, “I didn’t say it.”   
“I don’t care,” Wednesday laughed as she sat back on the bed, “‘You look like a big boy’, god, you’re going to remember that.”   
“Even when I’m a hundred, I’ll be telling our grandchildren, the nice doctor once told me I looked like I had a huge cock!” he chuckled, wiping a tear from his eye. He stretched out, extending his limbs out straight.   
“You know why she said it don’t you?” Wednesday said, folding her arms.   
“Why?”   
“Because you forgot to put underwear on,” she hissed, “Everyone can see him through your sweat pants.” Thranduil quickly glanced down.   
“Shit,” he muttered, adjusting how he sat on the chair in a bid to disguise the outline pressing against the fabric. It was Wednesday’s turn to laugh as Doctor Shaw came in, wheeling a machine with her.   
“Sounds like we’ve taken a load of your mind,” she said as she plugged it into a socket. She paused when she noticed that Thranduil was sitting differently.   
“Figured it out?” she asked Wednesday, who nodded as Thranduil flushed red, “Alright, shirt up, let’s see that belly.” Wednesday laid back on the bed and lifted her shirt and hoodie. She flinched as the cold gel was squirted onto her skin. 

 

There was a few tense seconds between the wand gliding over her before she heard the steady  _ thwump-thwump _ she remembered from her last scan.   
“Here we go,” the doctor said, “Good, strong heartbeat, and the sac looks intact. I think it’s safe to say it was the sex that caused the bleeding. Baby looks like they’re cheering. Look.” She pointed at the shape on the screen.   
“They’ve got their arms raised a little,” she said. Wednesday sighed happily as she looked at the screen. Her heart soared to see her baby safe and sound right where they belonged.   
“I hope that’s reassured you,” Doctor Shaw said, “Would you like a copy?” Wednesday nodded. The doctor set about printing the image on the screen before cleaning the gel off Wednesday’s belly.

 

A few minutes later, they were walking back down the corridor to the front entrance, scan picture in hand.   
“That’s such a huge weight off my mind,” Wednesday said, leaning into Thranduil who had one arm wrapped around her shoulder.   
“Mine too,” he said, “Though, when we tell everyone happened, we’ll leave out the bit where the doctor could see my genitals through my clothes.” Wednesday laughed again.   
“That was so funny!” she said, “Some people would probably balk at what she said, but it really took the edge off the tension.” Thranduil’s phone beeped in his pocket. He pulled it out.   
“Smaug’s really outdoing himself,” he muttered as he read the message.   
“Now what?”   
“It appears some local press were given a tip off that we are here,” he said, “With the engagement announcement, we’re the flavour of the month. Feren just texted me the heads up, apparently there’s photographers waiting at the entrance.”   
“So? Let them take their pictures,” Wednesday said, feeling a swell of confidence in herself, “All they’re going to see is two people in love.”   
“Yes, I can just picture the articles speculating the reason for our late night trip here,” Thranduil ground out.   
“Then let’s give them nothing to speculate on,” Wednesday said, reaching into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulling out the scan picture, “My mom already put it on the internet, and everything’s okay, so let them talk about my pregnancy. The worse they can say is we’re getting married because I’m pregnant.”   
“You really want that?”   
“I don’t care anymore,” Wednesday said, “You heard me on the way here. Our baby is safe, and I’m ready to take anything Smaug has lined up for us, a hundred times over.” Thranduil leaned in and kissed her, hard and deep.   
“Lead the way, my queen,” he whispered as he pulled back.


	48. War

Wednesday glanced up to see Thranduil smiling down at her.   
“Have you even been to sleep?” she asked.   
“A little,” he said, his voice rough suggesting he hadn’t long woken up. The previous night had been eventful to say the least; the mad rush to the hospital, the relief to know that the baby was okay, coming home then to find Legolas had called Tauriel and both she and Kili had turned up, waiting for news. Kili had been asleep on the armchair, Holly fast off on his chest when she and Thranduil had arrived home. Rather than disturb them too much, Legolas had found the travel crib they kept around for Holly and made up a little bed for her. Tauriel had happily fallen asleep on the couch after throwing a blanket over Kili’s sleeping form. Thranduil and Wednesday had then trudged off to bed, falling asleep in each others arms.

 

Thranduil leaned down and kissed her, one hand running down her side. She felt a shiver run down her spine. The last few weeks she had felt so tired and sick that they hadn’t been overly intimate, just the odd little tryst here and there. But the day before, something seemed to have switched back on, and she wanted him physically again. Her legs parted and he lowered his head to her neck moaning.   
“Remember what the doctor said,” he whispered.   
“Just be gentle with me,” she replied, lifting his face up to hers again. He moaned and kissed her again, encircling her in his arms and rolling onto his back. His hands ran down her back to her hips as she settled her knees on either side of him and ran her hands down his chest.    
“My queen,” he whispered against her lips before darting his tongue to taste her. She whimpered and rolled her hips against his. He moaned as his hands started pushing up the t-shirt of his she had slept in, sliding over her skin to cup her breasts. She hissed slightly as they were still tender but he soothed it with his warm fingers and kissed her apologetically. She yanked off the t-shirt and threw it on the floor, exposing her to his hungry eyes. He let out a low growl before lifting his head to tenderly lick her skin, pressing kisses along the underside of her breasts as he went before closing his mouth over one and digging his hands into the soft flesh of her backside. She could feel him stirring into life between her legs and rolled her hips again. The bed shifted beneath them and the headboard hit the wall.

 

“You two best not be doing what I think you’re doing!” Legolas’ voice called from downstairs. Thranduil groaned and Wednesday rolled off him with a sigh.   
“He’s got to move out,” Thranduil muttered, rubbing his eyes with his hands.   
“You’re telling me,” Wednesday huffed as she heard movement outside the bedroom door. Holly began crying downstairs, prompting Kili to shout to Tauriel.   
“Looks like the whole house is awake now,” Wednesday muttered.   
“Yes,” Thranduil replied, “Although, with them making all that noise, they won’t be able to hear us.” He grinned and rolled on top of her, kissing her neck, nipping gently at the skin. He quickly made his way down her body, trailing kisses as he went, leaving her gasping and unable to question him. His hands lifted her legs up, over his shoulders, opening her up to him. He groaned, trailing one long lick between her legs. She gasped, her hands flying to his hair, encouraging him as he delved deeper, flicking her clit.    
“Oh my queen,” he moaned, his hands sliding up to touch her breasts. His tongue’s strokes grew rougher, lapping at her, teasing her as she began to squirm on the bed. She bit her lip so as not to make any noise, her hips tilting in sync with his mouth until at last she shuddered violently against his touch, her chest heaving. Thranduil pulled back, grinning as he licked his lips. He crawled back up her body and kissed her deeply, tongue tangling with hers.   
“You can repay me tonight,” he whispered. She could only nod in response before he kissed her again.   
“It’s still early,” he said softly, “We should go back to sleep for a little while now the rabble has died down.” Wednesday glanced towards the door and realised that the rest of the house had descended into quietness again. She looked back up at him as he loomed over her, platinum hair forming a curtain around them as he kissed her again.

 

*

 

It was a loud bump that woke Wednesday later on. She jumped slightly making Thranduil wake with a grunt.   
“What was that?” he grumbled.   
“You son of a bitch! How could you?!” Legolas’ voice carried from downstairs, “I trusted you!” There was several loud thumps and Kili yelled.   
“Dad! Help!” Tauriel screamed.  Thranduil leapt from the bed and ran for the door. Wednesday scrambled to her feet and pulled on a robe to follow him. 

 

Thranduil pelted down the stairs, leaping down the last few in time to pull Legolas off the person he was trying beat the crap out of. Tauriel was huddled by the front door, holding a crying Holly. Wednesday remained on the stairs, away from the fray.   
“Feren!” Thranduil said, holding Legolas back, “When did you get back?”   
“About five minutes ago,” Feren grunted as he stood up with Kili’s help.   
“I’ll kill you!” Legolas snarled, “You promised! You promised those days were behind you!”   
“I didn’t kiss him, he kissed me!” Feren snapped, prompting Kili to wrap an arm around his waist to hold him back.   
“What the hell is going on?” Thranduil shouted.   
“He kissed his ex!” Legolas cried as he tried to break free but Thranduil tightened his grip, his scowl fixed on Feren.   
“Now, I warned you,” he growled at Feren.   
“It’s not what it looks like!” Feren protested, “He was trying to comfort me!”   
“What for?!”   
“My mom died!” Feren cried, “She never recovered from her stroke, she died two days ago in my arms. I went outside to have a smoke, to calm my nerves. And he followed me out, he’s a nurse there, it’s how we met. He told me how sorry he was and then he kissed me.”

 

Legolas began to fight against his father’s hold less and less.   
“Legolas, why would I cheat on you?” Feren calmed a little, “I love you, you idiot! Why would I buy us a home if I had any intention of looking at someone else?”   
“What?” Legolas stilled. Thranduil eased his grip and Kili relaxed a little. Feren hesitated, taking half a step back. He sighed and reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, pulling out a roll of papers. He held them out towards Legolas. Thranduil grabbed hold of Legolas’ shoulder and reached for the papers before carefully reading them.   
“He’s bought a house here in Lake Dale,” he said, releasing his hold on Legolas, “He’s included your name on the deed, son.” Legolas took the papers and looked at them.   
“You never said anything,” he said after a moment, looking up at Feren. Feren shrugged in response as Kili released him.   
“I...I wanted to surprise you, but then everything happened with my mom and…” he was cut off by Legolas marching forward and grabbing him by the head.   
“You’re a moron,” he laughed, “Good thing I love you. I’m sorry.” He pulled Feren into an embrace and kissed the side of his head.   
“I can’t believe you thought I would go back to him!” Feren said in disbelief as his own arms wrapped around Legolas, “He was shit! In bed and out of it!” Legolas laughed.   
“How did you even know?” Wednesday found her voice after watching everything unfold before her.   
“A picture, sent to my phone just before he got back,” Legolas said, pulling back from Feren.   
“Legolas,” Thranduil admonished, “After everything that has happened recently, you should know to question mysterious messages you recieve.”   
“I know,” Legolas admitted, “I just…” He turned and looked at Feren.   
“I’m terrified that one day you’re gonna leave me,” he said.   
“Idiot,” Feren laughed, “Your dad would bury me if I ever dared.”

 

*

 

Despite the cold weather, Bofur’s was heaving that night. Almost everyone in Lake Dale had turned out to enjoy a drink. Feren and Legolas were leaning against the bar, enjoying an animated conversation with Fili and Kili. Thorin was talking to Thranduil and some of the other Durinsons. Gloria, now unmistakably round, was sat in a warm booth close to the fire.    
“Just think this time last year, we’d have been in a nightclub, drinking cocktails with Ruby,” Gloria mused.   
“And here we are, pregnant by two of the most stubborn men to walk the earth, sipping lime and soda!” Wednesday laughed, “Whilst Ruby is off doing goodness knows what with that Scottish dancer Louis hired!” Gloria was silent for a moment.   
“It’s been exactly one year,” she said.   
“What has?”   
“Exactly one year since you danced in front of him for the first time,” Gloria said, pointing towards Thranduil.   
“It’s not is it?”   
“It is,” Gloria said, “This time last year, he came back into the club, and for the first time ever, asked for a private dance. You gave him more than his time.” Wednesday looked over at him. He seemed so much happier and brighter than he had back then. He wasn’t just some punter at a strip club anymore, he was her fiance, the father of her child, her companion, her protector.   
“I can’t believe I didn’t realise,” Wednesday said, staring at her drink, “Two weeks. In two weeks, it’ll be the anniversary of that huge snow storm, the one I got caught in and I ended up outside his building. Where all this started.” Her mind swirled as she thought about everything that had happened in the past year.

 

Thranduil standing in the snow, like a guardian angel, holding out his hand to her. The desperate few days of rutting on almost every surface in the apartment when they became snowed in. The relationship that evolved from it. Being introduced to his world with no small help from Thorin. Meeting the people important to him. Everything. And Smaug. Her heart thudded as she remembered her first encounter with him, in the glittering lights of a ball room as he admired the jewelry she wore. The sense of panic that had ensued from the mere mention of his name. Thranduil’s words that night.

 

_ I was scared he was going to take away the one thing I love more than anything. You. I love you so much Wednesday, and I don’t want to lose you, least of all because of him. _

 

So much had happened. She found herself standing up and walking over to him. Thorin and his cousins moved off to find their own tables and companions as she approached.   
“Hey,” Thranduil said as he saw her coming towards him, “What’s that look for?”   
“Gloria just reminded me of something,” she said softly, “It was a year ago today that we first met.” His hand slipped to the back of her head as she spoke.   
“You’re right, it is,” he said in a low voice, “So I can’t think of a better time to do this.” He gave her a deep kiss that almost left her breathless. He pulled back, smiling. He stood up straight.   
“Can I have everyone’s attention please?!” he called. The buzz of chatter died down and everyone looked over.   
“Many of you were here, five months ago, when this...wonderful woman beside me, agreed to marry me,” Thranduil said, gesturing to Wednesday, “More fool her.” There was a wave of laughter.   
“Back then, I never would have thought that we would be here today, living back in my beloved hometown,” he continued, “Surrounded by faces that I’ve known my whole life, all of us, working together to rebuild Lake Dale. That fact, makes me happier than I have been in a long time. But there is one thing that just increases my happiness tenfold. Some of you know, but Wednesday, this gorgeous woman stood next to me, she’s giving me the greatest gift. Not just her love, and her hand in marriage. She’s having my baby, another Elfking.” There was a moment of hush as Thranduil gazed down at Wednesday. She felt her heart swell as little.   
“Let’s hear it for my dad still having lead in the pencil!” Legolas shouted. Laughter and cheers rolled through the room as Wednesday rolled her eyes. Thranduil laughed and bent down to kiss her.   
“You’ve made me the happiest man that ever lived,” he whispered before he was yanked from her by Bard.

 

People pressed in around them, offering their congratulations and it became insufferably hot. Wednesday excused herself for some fresh air. She looked around and smiled. Although she had always been a city girl, this tiny little town, sat on the edge of a lake, it felt more like home than anywhere else. A breeze blew in, blowing her hair around as she glanced up the road where the school was taking shape. Her dream, made real, with a little help from Thranduil. In the other direction, the lake twinkled in the dying sun light. This was it, this was home.

 

In her pocket, her phone began to ring and she answered it without even looking at the screen.   
“Hello?” she said.   
“Ms McQueen, I see my last visit did nothing to dissuade you.”   
“Smaug,” she said in acknowledgement.    
“Indeed. Now, I have tried to be kind and polite about all this,” Smaug continued, “But it appears you are not heeding my message.” A small noise behind her had Wednesday turn. Thranduil stood there, the look on his face told her that he already knew who was calling. He strode over, one hand going to her waist as he leaned in. She tilted the phone slightly so they could both hear.   
“If by message you mean sending people in to try and drive us apart,” she replied, “Sending Legolas compromising pictures of Feren, my mother to try to convince me to be a gold digger. Honestly, Smaug, the way Thranduil speaks about you, my expectations were much higher.” Thranduil’s hand tightened on her waist as silence followed.   
“If you want us broken and fallen, you’re going to have to try a lot harder,” she continued, “Did you hear the good news yet? We’re having a baby. Another little ElfKing, due in April.”   
“Ms McQueen…”   
“I thought I was losing my baby last night, Smaug,” Wednesday cut him off, “And that terrified me more than anything else. So if you want to keep using your scare tactics, go right ahead, because they won’t work anymore. Not on me, not on Thranduil, not on Thorin. In fact, the whole of Lake Dale is no longer scared of you.” There was silence before the beeping sound indicating that he had hung up. She locked her phone and put it back in her pocket before turning to face Thranduil. He looked proud of her, a smirk spreading across his face.   
“I think I just declared war on him,” Wednesday said.   
“Indeed you did, my queen,” Thranduil replied, “Indeed you did.”


	49. Seattle

Four and a half months passed, with no recourse. No word or whisper of Smaug came, and Lake Dale began to thrive. Businesses were started and grown, homes were bought, and the dance school opened to huge success. Wednesday was doing three classes a night, three nights a week. She did plan on adding modern and street dance classes but as her pregnancy progressed, she was forced to keep to less energetic forms of dance. There were no more scares, and baby Elfking continued to grow undisturbed. Tauriel and Kili’s wedding went off without a hitch, save for Gloria going into labour a week early at the reception. She safely delivered a son whom she and Thorin named Thror, after Thorin’s grandfather. The new parents were besotted with the little boy born with a full head of black hair, as was Bilbo and his young nephew Frodo. Wednesday was immediately asked to be godmother and the date for the baptism set for the end of March. But before that, was another important event: Thranduil’s birthday.

 

Wednesday woke before him on the day, roused by the little one dancing a jig in her belly. Not to mention her bladder screaming at her in protest at being the dancefloor. She heaved herself out of the bed and began to waddle towards the bathroom. She glanced over her shoulder to see Thranduil sprawled out on his half of the bed, his long platinum hair trespassing onto her pillow, one arm underneath it, the other, hanging from the bed and his long legs twisted in the sheets. His sculpted chest rose and fell as he breathed. Her eyes trailed down over his stomach to the v-shape before his hips disappeared under the sheets. She smiled. She knew the perfect way to wake him up. She paid her visit to the toilet before returning. She stripped off the t-shirt and shorts before climbing onto the bed and leaned over him, watching him sleep for a moment before tugging the sheet down. He mumbled a little in his sleep and shifted as it brushed over his manhood which was already half-stiff. She grasped him in her hand and gently stroked him, earning her a keening moan and a gentle thrust from his hips. He hardened rapidly in her fingers and his ice blue eyes blinked open.   
“Happy birthday, my king,” she said softly as she continued her ministrations. His eyes ran down over her bare body and she saw his pupils dilate hungrily. He sat up and she pulled back slightly, kneeling back onto her feet, her legs slightly parted to accommodate her belly.    
“My queen,” he whispered, his voice hoarse as he moved to his knees, leaning in to kiss her. His tongue tangled with hers as his hands skimmed over her breasts. He grinned against her mouth as he gently cupped and squeezed them.   
“I love that they’re bigger,” he whispered, “I love that all of you is bigger.” His hands slipped down to her stomach, his fingers trailing over her large bump.   
“On your knees,” he growled, “I’m going to fuck you til you cum.”

 

She moved onto her hands and knees, feeling him take his place behind her, one hand trailing down her spine.   
“You look so beautiful, baby,” he said softly, “Oh, fuck.” His hands grabbed her hips and he sank into her. They moaned in unison, savouring the feel of being joined. His fingers dug into her flesh as he grumbled and cursed.   
“You feel so good,” he moaned as he began to pull out of her slightly.   
“Mmm, so do you,” she replied as he thrust forward again. He set a hard and fast pace, giving her as much as she could take. She could hear him grunting and growling behind her as his grip on her hips tightened. He twitched within her with every little mewl and cry she made. It felt so good to have him buried inside her, thrusting so hard the headboard repeatedly banged off the wall. She felt herself clench around him, the muscles inside her tightening as she hurtled towards release.    
“Fuck! Thranduil!” she cried out, “Shit, I’m cumming.”   
“Keep going, baby,” he growled behind her, “Keep going, let me feel it.” Her body soon snapped and she felt herself clamp down on him. He roared as his hips slammed into her and he came with a mighty throb and the rush of wet heat she knew so well. She cried out his name as they rode out their orgasms. He slumped slightly to one side, supporting his weight on one out-stretched arm as the other caressed her hip, thigh and stomach.   
“Good morning,” he said, “I think I woke someone up.”    
“They’ve been up for a while,” Wednesday admitted, “Mommy’s little dancer.” He chuckled before wrapping his arms around her and bringing her to lie down with him, him spooning against her back as he softened and withdrew from her.

 

They lay together for a while, exchanging kisses and touches whilst Thranduil kept one hand firmly on her bump.   
“Six weeks to go,” he muttered as he felt a kick against his hand.   
“Mmmhmmm,” Wednesday agreed, “Don’t forget to put the car seat in soon. I don’t want to get caught out like Thorin and Gloria.” Thranduil mumbled in agreement against her shoulder.   
“The house is so quiet now,” he said. And it was true. Feren and Legolas had moved into their new home just before New Years and the daily cacophony of slamming doors and shouting down the stairs had stopped. The house was silent, and it made Wednesday feel a little sad.   
“Hey,” Thranduil’s voice broke through her thoughts, “Enjoy it while it lasts. Chances are when this one arrives, we’ll be back up in decibels again.” His thumb traced over her stomach as he spoke.   
“You’re right,” she agreed, “It is nice, not having comments made whenever we make love. We have privacy again.”   
“Exactly,” he said, “Speaking of which, it’ll be out the window soon so we should probably get up and dressed. Join me for a shower?”   
“Of course.”

 

*

 

After a long, steamy shower that was mostly spent exchanging kisses more than actually cleaning, they made their way downstairs just in time for Kili and Tauriel arriving. Wednesday was only halfway down the stairs, her bump making it difficult for her to see where she was putting her feet.   
“Morning!” Tauriel called as they let themselves in, “Happy birthday, Dad! Got a surprise for you.”   
“Oh, really?” said Thranduil from where he stood in the kitchen, preparing coffee.”   
“Yeah, watch!” she said before lowering herself and placing Holly on all fours on the floor, “Go on, baby, crawl to Grandpa.” Holly let out a little yell and slammed one hand on the floor. In the kitchen, Thranduil crouched down.   
“Come on then Holly,” he said, “Are you going to come to me?” Holly made some little noises before raising one hand and shifting one knee forward.   
“Atta girl!” Kili said in encouragement, watching as his daughter began to successfully propel herself across the floor. Within moments, she was at Thranduil’s feet and holding out her arms to be lifted by him.   
“Clever girl!” Thranduil cheered, “Did you do that? Did you come to me all by yourself? When did that start?”   
“Last night,” Kili said, “Literally glanced away for a second and she was almost in the fire!”   
“Oh, you’re going to be a troublemaker, just like your father,” Thranduil said.   
“Need a hand with breakfast?” Tauriel asked.   
“Yes, can you do the eggs?” Thranduil said, balancing Holly on one hip and walking over to Wednesday as she approached the bottom of the stairs.   
“What do you need me to do?” she asked.   
“Go sit down with our granddaughter,” he said, “I’m not having you burn your bump attempting to cook again.” 

 

Wednesday shook her head. It wasn’t even a bad burn he was referring to. She had grazed her bump on the hot oven door. It had hurt but the mark had gone within a day or so. And that had been purely by accident as her bump had ‘popped’ that week and she hadn’t yet adjusted to needing more space to move around. She took Holly from him, holding her against her chest; the little girl’s rump resting on her bump as she headed towards the living room. Kili was laying out a play mat and some toys to keep Holly occupied.   
“What a surprise, Feren and Legolas are late,” he said as Wednesday awkwardly set Holly on the floor.   
“Yeah, funny how if it involves any kind of work, those two don’t turn up til last minute,” she said, sitting down and watching as Holly crawled towards her favourite toy.   
“You know they got a citation from the town council last week?” Kili said, crouching down to watch his daughter.   
“No! They never mentioned it, what for?”   
“Noise violation,” Kili grinned, “Apparently they got a little drunk, decided to have sex and...uh, forgot to respect their neighbours in the process.” Wednesday burst out laughing.   
“And after all the shit they gave Thranduil and I about making noise!”

 

She and Kili were still laughing ten minutes later as the aforementioned pair arrived just as Thranduil and Tauriel were plating up breakfast.   
“Happy birthday Dad!” Legolas yelled as he entered, “Hey Wednesday, what’s so funny?”   
“Nothing,” she said, wiping her eyes, “How are your neighbours?” Kili wheezed with laughter, causing Holly to tilt her head in curiosity.   
“Oh, you’ve heard then,” Legolas said in a flat voice, “Yeah, we’re not exactly proud of it.”   
“Speak for yourself,” said Feren, “It wasn’t me making all the noise.”   
“Can we stop with the sex talk around Holly please?” Tauriel said, “You two best set the table seen as you’re late.” Feren and Legolas shrugged and grabbed the cutlery and glasses that Tauriel put on the island. Soon, they were all sat around the table, enjoying the breakfast. Cards and gifts were passed along to Thranduil after they were done eating and he opened them as Legolas and Kili cleared the plates. He opened Feren and Legolas’ first; a copy of ‘Parenting For Dummies’ that earned a groan and an eyeroll. From Tauriel and Kili, a new wristwatch and a Parker fountain pen ‘from’ Holly that had his name engraved on it. Along with that, Kili delivered the latest finance report from Gloin; Project Orcrist had far exceeded all expectations and was about to turn its first profit. Finally Wednesday gave him his gift from her. It wasn’t much. Most of the money the dance school was making went back into it or on stuff needed for their impending arrival. But she managed to get him a little something.   
“You didn’t need to get me anything,” he said, taking the box she offered.   
“I know, but I thought of you when I saw it,” she said. He untied the ribbon and opened the box. A smile spread across his face and he pulled out a mug. A cheesy ‘No.1 Dad’ mug.   
“You lost the other one in the fire,” Wednesday said quietly, “And this is our new start. New start, new mug. Happy birthday.” Thranduil set the mug down on the table and turned to look at her.   
“Thank you,” he said gently, leaning in to give her a kiss.

 

No sooner had he pressed his lips to hers than the phone rang. Not one of their cellphones, but the landline he’d had installed.   
“I got it!” Kili called. They heard the click of him lifting the handset out it’s stand.   
“Elfking residence,” he said, “Yeah, he’s here. Who’s calling?” There was silence for a moment before the sound of Kili hurrying into the dining room.   
“What’s wrong?” Tauriel asked. Kili looked a little shaken as he looked at Thranduil.   
“Uh, there’s a guy calling from Social Services in Seattle,” he said, “Something about a woman called Melanie Hartmann.” Thranduil looked at him blankly for a second before recognition set in. He stood up and took the phone from Kili.   
“Hello?” he said, holding it to his ear as he strode from the room.   
“What’s going on?” Wednesday asked Kili. The young man shrugged.   
“I don’t know, but if Social Services are involved, it could be serious,” he said. Wednesday got up and made her way to the kitchen. She could see Thranduil sat at his desk, the phone still to one ear as he typed on his keyboard. He was keeping his voice low until she heard him say goodbye and hang up. He put the phone down and pressed a few more buttons and she heard the printer whir into life. He leapt from his seat and grabbed the paper from the printer before heading out the room.   
“Baby, I’m so sorry,” he said, “I’ve got to go to Seattle, hopefully I won’t be gone long.”   
“Wait, what? Why?”   
“I can’t tell you, not yet, I’m not even sure myself,” he said, “I’ve got to go get the details worked out. I need to pack and leave right now, I’m booked on the next flight. Feren, can you drive me to the airport? I don’t want to leave the car there.”   
“No problem, boss,” said Feren.   
“At least let me help you pack,” Wednesday protested. Thranduil held her head in his hands.   
“I’ll be quicker on my own,” he said, “Do you trust me?”   
“Of course,” she replied, “But, who is Melanie Hartmann?”   
“The last woman before you,” he said, leaning in and kissing her forehead, “I’ve got to go pack.” He disappeared upstairs whilst Feren retrieved his coat and keys. He reappeared a few minutes later, a black carry-on bag and a suit bag in his hands.   
“A suit, what do you need a suit for?” Legolas asked   
“I’m just covering my bases,” Thranduil said before turning to Wednesday, “I promise, I’ll call you tonight.” He handed the bags to Feren and pulled Wednesday into his arms.   
“I love you,” he said softly, “Keep the doors and windows locked, and keep this one in here til I get back.” He ran one hand over her bump, the warmth and pressure prompting a strong kick against his palm.   
“Okay,” Wednesday said, not sure how to feel or what to think, “Call me when you land. And tonight when you know more about what’s going on.”   
“I promise,” he said, “I’m sorry, baby, one day we’ll manage a celebration without some drama interrupting it. I’ve got to go.” He leaned in and kissed her before pulling back.   
“Legolas, I want you and Feren to stay here at night as much as you can while I’m gone,” he said as he headed to the door.   
“You really should have gotten one of Dwalin’s pups,” Legolas joked, “Just kidding, Of course I’ll stay here.” Thranduil paused at the front door, turning and looking back at them all.   
“I love you all,” he said before turning and hurrying towards the car.


	50. Poppy

Thranduil sighed and dropped onto the bed. What a day! And definitely not the way he had planned to spend his birthday. Instead of spending it with his family and finishing it all off with drinks in Bofur’s, he’d spent it travelling, meeting with people and was now laying in a hotel room, hundreds of miles away. He wished Wednesday was with him. He could almost imagine her running her fingers through his hair and kissing him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone and a piece of paper. He opened up his contact list. Right at the top under most contacted was Wednesday’s name, he tapped it and moved the phone to his ear as he sat up. It took a few rings for her to answer and she sounded groggy.  
“Sorry baby, did I wake you?” he asked.   
“I must have dropped off,” she said, “It’s hard work, carrying an extra thirty pounds around. So, are you going to tell me what’s happened with Melanie?” Thranduil took a deep breath.   
“She died,” he said, “A few days ago.”

 

_The sound of a bustling department greeted Thranduil as he pushed open the door he had been directed to. Desks were piled high with papers, trash cans overflowed with empty paper coffee cups and everyone looked tired and more than a little overworked._   
_“Excuse me?” he caught a young woman who was hurrying past, “I’m looking for a Tom Eastland?”_   
_“Oh, back row, far right,” she said, gesturing with one hand._   
_“Thanks.” He began to make his way through the room, spotting a young man with dark hair hunched over his desk, the phone to his ear. He had just put it down when Thranduil approached._   
_“Excuse me, Tom?” The young man looked up._   
_“Ah, Mr Elfking! Nice to meet you,” Tom said, jumping to his feet and holding out his hand. Thranduil shook it before taking the offered seat._   
_“I’m sorry to have dragged you clean across the country,” Tom continued as he sat down, “I understand that it’s your birthday too, not exactly happy news. Umm, I’m not even sure where to start with all this.”_   
_“Can you start with how she died?” Thranduil asked. Tom gulped visibly before pulling a file towards him._   
_“According to the police report, she got a call from a potential client who lived outside the city,” he read, “It was late, it was raining. She turned a bend and there was an abandoned car right on the apex. She couldn’t have seen it until it was too late.” Thranduil swallowed._   
_“Everything alright, Mr Elfking?” Tom asked, “You’ve gone rather pale? Can I get you something?”_ _  
“No, no, thank you, I’m fine,” Thranduil said, “Just….it all rang a bell for a moment.”_

  
“But you said she was just a weekend fling, why would they call you?” Wednesday interrupted his train of thought. He quickly squashed it. The similarities between the accidents that killed Laurina and Melanie were too many to be a coincidence.   
“Some of her friends were sorting through her papers the day after and found a letter addressed to me,” he explained.   
“To you?”   
“Yes,” he said, standing up, “Baby, there’s no easy way for me to tell you this. Melanie had a daughter, and according to this letter her friends found, I’m the father. That’s why Social Services called. I’ve had to take a DNA test.” He began unfolding the paper with one hand.   
“According to this, there’s a ninety nine point seven per cent chance I am,” he continued as he started to pace the room, “The dates all line up too.” He waited for her reaction and was met with silence.

 

_Thranduil stared at Tom, his jaw slackened in shock._   
_“I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” he asked._   
_“Melanie’s daughter, according to this letter that her friends found, you’re her father,” Tom said again, “I mean, we’ll need to get a DNA test done to confirm it, but from what Melanie wrote, the two of you were together one weekend at the start of October. Her daughter was born the following June. Her friends said they never heard any mention of a boyfriend for two years before the girl was born, just ‘some guy’ she met on a work thing.”_ _  
“Some guy,” Thranduil scoffed._

  
“Babe?” he said softly   
“I’m still here,” she replied, “I’m just...so...what happens now?”   
“It’s Melanie’s funeral tomorrow,” he said, “I’m going to go, meet some of her friends and hopefully, get some idea on what my daughter is like. Then the day after, I have to go before a judge for a hearing to get legal custody. I’m not named on her birth certificate, so I’ll probably have to sort that out too whilst I’m here.”   
“Why do you need to have a hearing? You’re her father according to that test, right?”   
“Melanie’s mother, a woman in her eighties in Austria, is also petitioning for custody,” Thranduil explained, “She’s never met the girl either, she barely speaks English and according to Tom from Social Services, she’s giving off these uber religious, hell-and-damnation vibes. When she was told Melanie was dead, she started proclaiming it judgement for sleeping with a man and having a child out of wedlock. Another reason Tom went above and beyond to find me; he’s worried about what will happen if she goes there.”

 

_“I got to be honest, Mr Elfking, if this baby girl goes to her grandmother, I don’t know what will happen to her,” Tom said, “My gut says that I can’t let that happen. If I do…”_ _  
_ _“No, I….I get the picture,” Thranduil said, “I wouldn’t want that either.”_

  
“Okay, what do we know about this little girl then?” Wednesday asked.   
“Her name is Poppy, she’s three,” Thranduil said, “She’s the spitting image of Legolas at that age.”   
“You’ve seen her?”   
“Yeah, I got a glimpse at the hospital today,” he said, sitting on the bed again, “She’s beautiful, Wednesday. I took one look, and I knew. I knew she was mine.”

 

_“Okay, Mr Elfking, I just need to take your sample,” the nurse said cheerfully, “If you could just open your mouth.” Thranduil obliged and the nurse took the swab before carefully labelling it. Tom’s head appeared around the open door._   
_“Do you want to see her?” he asked. Thranduil nodded and followed him. Tom led him three doors down to another room. The door was open and Thranduil saw a small girl, perched on the bed, another nurse swabbing the inside of her cheek._   
_“Good girl, Poppy!” the nurse said brightly, “Aren’t you brave?!” Despite the nurse’s cheery tone, Poppy didn’t smile, she just looked down. Thranduil felt like he couldn’t breathe. The two pigtails coming from the top of Poppy’s head were platinum blonde, just like his. The little eyes that looked like they were about to cry were ice blue, just like his. He could see his nose, his chin, every fibre of his being cried out telling him. This was his baby. And he had to protect her._

  
“Oh babe,” Wednesday sighed, “This is a lot to take in.”   
“I know, my mind is still reeling,” he admitted, “I don’t understand why Melanie never told me, never contacted me. She knew where she could find me.”   
“Poppy’s only three, Thranduil,” she said, “To lose her mother at that young an age, it’s not going to be easy.” He heard her sigh in a way he knew all too well. She was about to take charge.   
“Okay,” she said, “You focus on the hearing and getting custody.Tomorrow, I’ll get Feren and Legolas to clear out Legolas’ old room. By the time you get back here, we’ll have it painted and…”   
“You’re okay with this?” Thranduil blurted out.   
“Of course I am!” Wednesday replied, “What else are we supposed to do? Let her go to a religious-nut grandparent who has never met her and doesn’t even speak the same language. No. Get her home, Thranduil. I’ll make sure we’re ready.”   
“You’re incredible, you know that?” he said, a smile crossing his face, “I wish you were here with me but…”   
“Air travel probably isn’t a good idea for me right now,” she replied. He knew she was probably rubbing her bump as she spoke.

  
“How are they doing?” he asked, his thoughts straying from the child in Seattle to the one in her belly.   
“They’ve calmed down since this morning,” she told him, “I think they miss you. Oh, Kili fitted the car seat this morning.”   
“Really?”   
“Yeah, and then Feren refitted it when he got back because, you know, he doesn’t like the idea of the baby going through the windscreen the first time I hit the brakes,” she said. Thranduil laughed.   
“Kili means well,” he said, “His heart goes into everything, even if his brain can’t quite match it.”   
“Yeah, he’s a good guy, Tauriel picked a good one,” she replied, “Hey, if you find out Poppy’s favourite colour, let me know and I’ll get on to Dwalin about paint in that colour.”   
“I will,” he said, “I love you, baby.”   
“I love you too,” she said, “You’ll call me tomorrow after the funeral?”   
“Of course,” he said, “I’m sorry all this ruined our plans for today.”   
“We’ll just have double to celebrate when you get home,” she replied, “Goodnight, my king.”   
“Goodnight my queen.”


	51. Home

Thranduil stood some distance away from the crowd gathered around the gravesite. He felt out of place, like he didn’t belong. He felt like he was intruding. He barely knew Melanie, and yet, the little girl stood by the grave was his too, his daughter. His baby girl. And she looked so lost and frightened. He wanted to go gather her up and take her away from all this. No child that young should have to bury their parent. He took a drag from the cigarette in his hand. Despite quitting easily fifteen years before, he’d found himself craving a smoke badly in the last twenty-four hours. He leaned back slightly against the car he had rented on his arrival as the coffin was lowered into the ground. A high-pitched cry came from Poppy and the woman holding her hand scooped her up. Thranduil’s heart hurt. He had known Melanie for one weekend, one blissful weekend, and now she was dead at the age of thirty-four. He strongly suspected Smaug’s involvement. Smaug knew that Lake Dale and it’s citizens no longer feared him, and it wasn’t beyond the snake to go looking for some other way to hurt him. He made a mental note to reach out to Nina, another past conquest, make sure she was alright. The similarities between Laurina’s death and Melanie’s were too much to ignore.

 

The crowd around the grave began to dissipate and a man emerged, headed towards Thranduil, who quickly stubbed out the cigarette.   
“Thranduil Elfking?” the man asked. Thranduil nodded.   
“Hi, I’m John, my wife, Carol, and I have been caring for Poppy,” the man said, holding out his hand. Thranduil shook it.   
“Thank you, for looking after her,” he said, “I...I would have been here but…”   
“I know,” John replied, “You know, you look exactly like Poppy.” Thranduil smiled.   
“When I saw her yesterday, all I could think of was how much she looked like my son at that age,” he mused.   
“Tom called us last night, said you’re petitioning for custody,” John continued, “I figured you might want to meet her.” Thranduil nodded. He’d only caught a glimpse the day before at the hospital. John turned and waved to his wife. She headed over, Poppy still in her arms. A few feet from them, she put Poppy down and turned her around. Poppy’s big blue eyes looked up at him with a hint of fear and uncertainty and Thranduil found himself crouching down to be closer to her height.   
“Hi,” he said, his voice shaking slightly.   
“Poppy, do you remember what we talked about? Who we talked about?” John said, crouching down next to Poppy. She nodded.   
“This is him, this is your daddy,” John said, putting a hand on Thranduil’s shoulder.   
“Hi, baby,” Thranduil said, the pet name slipping out without him thinking. Poppy looked him up and down.   
“Mommy call me that,” she said quietly.   
“Mommy used to call you ‘baby’?” Thranduil asked, “She should, because you are her baby, and you’re mine too.”   
“I no baby, I big girl!” Poppy protested.   
“Of course you are,” Thranduil chuckled, “But you’re still my baby.” Next to him, John let out a curse.   
“What’s he doing here?” he grunted, standing up. Thranduil looked up towards him.   
“Who?” he asked.   
“Melanie’s boss, hired her a couple of months ago,” John said, “Something about him, he asked way too many personal questions I thought, about her, Poppy.” Thranduil stood up and looked in the same direction as John was. His gut clenched.   
“Smaug,” he muttered.   
“You know him?”   
“Yeah, not in a good way either,” Thranduil tried to keep from growling, not wanting to scare Poppy. She looked over her shoulder and whimpered. She yanked her hand from Carol’s and rushed forward, grasping Thranduil’s leg. On instinct, he put a hand on her head, running his thumb over her hair.

 

Smaug’s face twisted into a grin when he saw Thranduil.   
“Ah, Mr Elfking,” he said, “Long time no see.” John and Carol moved closer together.   
“Tell me,” Smaug continued, “How is the future Mrs Elfking? She must have, what? No more than six weeks to go til the arrival of your little one?”   
“Wednesday is fine,” Thranduil ground out.   
“But who is watching over her whilst you are here, cleaning up your mess?”   
“All of our friends,” Thranduil said, “And there is no mess here.” Poppy whimpered again. Thranduil bent down and scooped her up into his arms. Her own wound around his neck and she buried her face in his shoulder.   
“I hear you are petitioning for custody,” Smaug said, looking over the little girl as Thranduil straightened up, “I am currently aiding Ms Hartmann’s mother in the same bid.”   
“Of course you are,” Thranduil said.   
“I daresay I shall see you tomorrow at the hearing then,” Smaug said, “Frau Hartmann has Wyrm Enterprises full support; she will be more than capable of caring for Poppy.” Thranduil remained silent, running one hand up and down Poppy’s back as she started to cry.   
“Tomorrow then,” Thranduil said, fighting to keep his hands from shaking.   
“Tomorrow,” Smaug said, “Mr Porter, Mrs Porter.” He bowed his head to John and Carol before leaving.

 

As he left, John shook his head.   
“Mel’s mom can’t have her,” he said, “Mel hated her.”   
“Yeah, Tom said he got hell and damnation vibes from her,” Thranduil said, trying to soothe Poppy at the same time, “We need something to prove that Melanie would never have wanted Poppy to go to her.”   
“That letter that named you, Mel’s wishes were in it,” John said, “And I think some of her old diary entries talked about her mother growing up.”   
“Find it, please,” Thranduil said, “I’ll get what I need tonight to prove I can support a child.”   
“Is what he said true? Is your fiancee pregnant?” Carol asked.    
“Yeah, she’s got less than two months to go,” Thranduil said, “And then Poppy will be a big sister.” He turned his head to look at the little girl who was resting hers on his shoulder.   
“Daddy,” she said, reaching one hand out and touching his cheek.   
“Yes, baby,” he said, “I’m your daddy, and I’m going to take care of you.”

 

*

 

He barely felt like he slept a wink that night. All he could do was lie there and think about Poppy. And Melanie. His gut twisted in anger. He knew Smaug had to have been involved somehow, but to actually be Melanie’s employer. Smaug had gotten far too close to Poppy and Thranduil wasn’t going to stand for it. Poppy had been reluctant to let him go so it had been quite late but he had called Elrond as soon as he had gotten back to the hotel. He wasn’t going to lose her without a fight. Not when she had taken to him so quickly. The six am wakeup call came far too soon after finally closing his eyes. He showered and called Wednesday as he dressed. She sounded tired and in pain before admitting she was at the hospital. She quickly reassured him that there was nothing to worry about. She had been suffering from Braxton Hicks contractions and Feren had driven her there. The phone had been briefly passed over to Feren who had reassured him it was all under control, the baby wasn’t going anywhere just yet. It didn’t do much to calm his nerves.

 

What did help calm him was the sight of Elrond and Celeborn both waiting for him at the courthouse when he arrived. He hadn’t expected Celeborn. The memory of him manhandling Wednesday was still raw and vivid. The other man kept his eyes down and stayed silent as they approached.   
“I hope you don’t mind me asking Celeborn for help,” Elrond whispered discreetly as they made their way in, “Two minds are better than one, and he is an excellent attorney.” Thranduil reluctantly nodded. They hadn’t spoken in months, and Celeborn had avoided Kili and Tauriel’s wedding. As much as he longed to punch Celeborn in the jaw, again, he wanted to make sure Poppy was safe more.   
“Shall we?” Elrond said, bring Thranduil from his thoughts. The three of them headed in, Elrond muttering in Thranduil’s ear what the basis of their case was. It seemed solid but with Smaug on the other side, he didn’t know how successful they would be. 

 

The courtroom was packed. Thranduil recognised a lot of faces from the funeral the day before, and it was comforting to know that they all cared so much about Melanie and Poppy that they wanted to know where she would end up. Once they were seated, Thranduil glanced at the other side. An older woman sat there, her face was stern and hard but there was a vague resemblance to how he remembered Melanie. The attorney at her side wore a designer suit, and screamed money. Smaug was pouring a lot of resources into this. He briefly wondered how many small towns Smaug had conquered as he had Lake Dale. His phone beeped in his pocket and he checked it. It was a text from Thorin with an update on Orcrist’s latest acquisition.    
“I would have thought maybe you would have abandoned this foolish petition,” Smaug’s voice in his ear was most unwelcome. Thranduil. Elrond and Celeborn all turned as one to look at the man who was sat behind them. Smaug never changed.   
“There’s nothing foolish about it,” Elrond said, “He has the support network, the experience, the means and the inclination to raise a child. Not to mention he is at least thirty years younger than Mrs Hartmann.”   
“Frau Hartmann, young Peredhel, remember your manners,” Smaug warned, “And as for means, what means does Mr Elfking have? Last I heard, you had sunk all your funds into that ridiculous project which has so far failed to achieve any of its goal.” Thranduil frowned.   
“That’s odd,” he said, “Because I just got a message from my business partner. We just bought the last five houses you owned in Lake Dale and are still on track to turn a profit.” Smaug’s face paled.   
“What?”   
“You might want to check with whoever deals with your real estate,” Thranduil grinned, “Because you don’t own a scrap of land in my town anymore.” He turned back around as the judge entered and everyone rose to their feet.

 

Despite the best efforts of Elrond and Celeborn, the hearing proceeded at a snail’s pace with neither side showing more favor than the other. For every argument in Thranduil’s favor, Frau Hartmann had an equal. It was starting to look hopeless for it getting resolved. Until Elrond’s cell phone buzzed in his pocket. He glanced at it before grinning. Thranduil shot him a questioning look as he wrote something on a piece of paper.

 

_ Stay seated, don’t say anything. _

 

The doors at the back of the courtroom opened and a familiar voice thundered down the room.   
“Your Honor, I have grave news of corruption in this hearing,” Gandalf spoke and Thranduil felt a weight lift off his shoulders. He cast a sideways glance at Elrond who grinned. The sound of footsteps made Thranduil glance over his shoulder. Several men in suits were following Gandalf in.

 

Gandalf approached the judge and handed him a folder. The judge opened it up and began to look through it.   
“This is….” he started.   
“Frau Hartmann’s personal account,” Gandalf said, “As you can see, a sizable amount was placed in there the day of her daughter’s death, the source of which, cannot be traced.” Thranduil swallowed nervously. That explained the men in suits. FBI agents. Frau Hartmann began to shout as a woman next to her translated what was being said. Thranduil didn’t know enough German to keep up with what she was saying. But apparently Gandalf did. He turned to face her and spoke calmly in her own language before looking back to the judge.   
“I’m sure that the young lady translating would be willing to confirm what was just said,” he spoke, “But it appears Frau Hartmann was told there would be no problems if she sat down here today and did as she was told. She was promised a sizeable cash settlement for taking on her granddaughter.” At that moment, the older woman stood upright, slamming her hands on the table and began shouting again.   
“That’s enough!” The judge raised his voice enough to render the entire room silent, “Frau Hartmann, sit down!” She sat down, muttering under her breath. Whatever she was saying, it wasn’t good. Thranduil could see the translator scribbling something down on some paper, a worried look on her face.   
“Smaug made a mistake. That’s a court-appointed translator,” Celeborn whispered to Thranduil, “If she’s said anything incriminating, it’s all going on the record.” Thranduil’s mouth twitched into a smile before he looked around the room again. The FBI agents were withdrawing save one stood beside Frau Hartmann. Smaug was nowhere to be seen.    
“That man, Gandalf is a wizard at this sort of thing,” Elrond said, “I only called him last night after I finished speaking with you.”   
“He is a good ally to have,” Thranduil replied, watching as the judge spoke with the grey-haired man. The translator rushed up to the bench and handed her notes to the judge who shook his head.   
“In light of what Frau Hartmann has said, and the fact she is now part of a federal investigation into fraud and corruption,” he said, loudly for the whole court to hear, “I hereby grant custody of Poppy Hartmann to her biological father, Thranduil Elfking. Congratulations Mr Elfking, it’s a girl!” 

 

A whooping noise eruppted behind Thranduil and he couldn’t help the broad grin that spread over his face. He’d won. His little girl was coming home. Elrond placed a hand on his shoulder.   
“Congratulations Thranduil,” he said.   
“Thank you, both of you,” Thranduil replied, “Your arguments for me were….you’re worth more than I pay you.”   
“Thranduil, I would have been here whether you were paying me or not,” Celeborn said quietly, “We’ve been friends for a long time, and I’m sorry for how I acted, for what I did. If you can ever forgive me.”   
“You just helped me win custody of my daughter,” Thranduil said, “If Wednesday can forgive you, I can.”   
“Shall we go get your daughter?” Celeborn grinned, “Elrond can stay and get the ball rolling on reissuing her birth certificate.”   
“Yes.”

 

*

 

There was a bit more paperwork involved before Thranduil could go fetch Poppy but he finally did. John and Carol had packed just enough of her belongings to last her until they were able to pack up the rest to ship out to Lake Dale. Poppy was excited at first but when she realised she would be leaving the Porters, there were plenty of tears on all sides. By the time they got back to the hotel, Poppy had cried herself to sleep. She stirred a little when Thranduil lifted her out of the car but soon snuggled into him and drifted back off. He laid her out on the bed and quickly booked them on the first flight home the following morning. He was just finishing up when she stirred.   
“Daddy,” she said, grinning at him. He couldn’t help but smile. She was taking all this so well.   
“Hey baby, you hungry?” he asked as he lifted her into his arms.   
“Yes, pancakes!” she said.   
“Ok, we’ll get you some pancakes, but first there’s some people I want you to meet,” he said.   
“Who that?” Poppy asked pointing at the screen on his phone. Thranduil glanced down and realised she was pointing at the picture on the locked screen of him and Wednesday.   
“Oh that’s Wednesday,” he said, “She’s a very special lady to Daddy, he’s going to marry her.”   
“She fat?”   
“No, baby, she’s not fat,” he said, sitting down and holding the phone up to show her, “That bump is a baby, hiding in her tummy. They’re going to be born soon, and you’ll be a big sister.”   
“I big girl!”   
“Yes you are,” Thranduil said, “But you’ve got a big brother who can’t wait to meet you. And a sister.”   
“Where?”   
“Home,” he replied, “My home. I’ll find you some pictures.” He unlocked the phone and for the next hour, he showed her. He showed her her new home, her family, their friends, the whole town.

 

*

 

Meanwhile...

 

Smaug cut through the undergrowth, seething in rage. That blasted Elfking had been right! Every last property in Lake Dale had been sold back to them! He wanted to hurt someone, and that want had led him here. He looked up at the large lakeside. It looked quiet, all the lights were out. He could see the back door and headed for it. He was just reaching out to grab the handle when he heard two clicking noises. He froze and glanced from side to side. The dark-haired man he recognised, Bard. The other was younger, Smaug didn’t know his name, only that he worked for Elfking. Each man held a handgun, aimed at Smaug’s head.   
“Back away now,” Bard growled. Smaug took one step back. He could take one down but the other would have a bullet in his head before he had a chance.   
“I’d happily kill you here and now,” Bard continued, stepping closer and forcing Smaug away, “But Wednesday doesn’t deserve to have that on her conscience. Leave now, don’t come back, and this Black Arrow remains unfired for another twenty years..” Smaug looked between the two. They looked more than capable of hiding a body somewhere it would never be found. He had acted in haste, he realised, it was time to retreat, draw up new plans. He slowly stepped backwards, eyes fixed on the two men.   
“Pity, but no matter. The Elfkings and Durinsons are going nowhere,” he said, “I am patient, I can wait.”


	52. Return To Home

As the scenery passed by the window, Thranduil found himself finally able to relax more. Just ten more miles, and they would be home in Lake Dale. He glanced over his shoulder. Poppy was sat in her car seat, babbling away, playing with a stuffed teddy bear.    
“You okay, boss?” Feren asked from the driver’s seat.   
“I’ll be better when we’re home,” Thranduil answered, “I keep feeling like he’s going to jump out of the woods and try to take her.” Feren shifted nervously in his seat and Thranduil noticed.   
“What’s up?” he asked.   
“Nothing, boss.”   
“Don’t lie to me,” Thranduil said, “I’ve known you for years. Something’s bothering you.” Feren slowed the car and pulled over, turning off the engine. He stared at the steering wheel for a moment before taking a deep breath.   
“I messed up,” he said quietly, “I...I didn’t follow Smaug last night to make sure that he left town.”   
“Daddy…” Poppy piped up from the backseat.   
“One second, baby,” Thranduil said, before turning back to Feren, “What happened?” Feren wiped his face.   
“I...I wanted to follow him, to make sure he left  but Bard told me to stay,” he said, “And..I fucked up!” He hit the steering wheel with his fist.   
“Feren! What happened?”   
“You know Bofur’s cousin, Bifur?”   
“Oh no…”   
“He’s deaf, and he can’t talk so good,” Feren said, “Smaug’s as much of a sociopath as you always told me. I should have followed him!”   
“Feren, calm down, tell me exactly what happened.”   
“Smaug went looking for a victim, and he found Bifur,” Feren sighed, “Bombur found him this morning, unconscious, blood everywhere. His skull was cracked open in three places. Last I heard he was having major surgery.”   
“Feren, it’s not your fault,” Thranduil tried to reassure him, “Smaug is a sociopath. He would have found someone to take his frustrations out on sooner or later. You can’t protect everyone.”   
“What if it had been Legolas?”   
“Smaug would never have gone after Legolas,” Thranduil said, “Legolas is young, strong, he’s not vulnerable enough to be a victim to Smaug. This is fear tactics, He’s gone for the weakest member of the community, a man who can’t hear him coming or call for help. If you had followed him, he would have just turned around and come back later anyway. You did the right thing, you protected Wednesday like I asked.”   
“If Bifur dies…”   
“Don’t think about it,” Thranduil cut him off, “I’ll talk to Bofur and Bombur, find out if there’s anything we can do to help. You, stay away, keep your mouth shut, do your job.”   
“I don’t mess up like this.”   
“I think one mistake in over ten years of service can be forgiven,” Thranduil said gently.   
“Daddy, pee pee!” Poppy howled from the backseat.   
“In the meantime, the joys of potty training await me,” Thranduil muttered, “I just got to change her. You, get your head back in the game whilst I do that.”   
“Sure thing, boss.”

 

*

 

“Where do you want to go first?” Feren asked as they arrived in Lake Dale, his gaze deliberately avoiding the house marked off with crime scene tape.   
“Where’s Wednesday?”   
“Dance school, she’s doing an extra class today,” Feren said.   
“There then.” Feren turned the corner and steered the car towards the dance school. As Thranduil looked up at it, the sun shining onto the new roof, he felt like he was truly home.   
“Hey baby, you ready to meet Wednesday?” he asked.   
“Yes!” came the excited voice from the backseat. He chuckled. She’d take the plane ride and meeting Feren like a champ. Now was the true test, would she accept Wednesday when she met her in person? Feren pulled up next to Wednesday’s car.   
“I’ll move her car seat over and take your stuff back to the house,” Feren said, as Thranduil undid his seatbelt.   
“You don’t want to stay?”   
“Right now the only place I want to be is with Legolas.” Thranduil patted Feren on the shoulder.   
“I get that,” he said, “Because the only place I want to be is in there, with Wednesday.”

 

He got out the car, stretching his arms until his joints cracked. Plane and car seats were not designed for his tall frame. He opened the rear door and carefully lifted Poppy out. He knew several folks had stopped and were watching him with interest. A small town like this, word would have gotten around about where he had rushed off to and why he’d been gone for almost a week. He didn’t care though, not now his little girl was safely where she belonged. He started heading towards the door. Bard emerged when he was just a few yards away, his face lighting up when he saw Thranduil.   
“You’re back!” he said, hurrying forward, “Oh, and you’ve brought someone with you. Hello.”  Poppy buried her face in Thranduil’s neck as he approached.   
“Poppy, this is Bard, remember? I showed you his picture?” Thranduil said gently. Poppy turned her head slightly to look at him.   
“Hi,” she said quietly.   
“Hi,” Bard whispered back, “It’s nice to meet you, Poppy.” Poppy just turned her head back into Thranduil’s neck. Bard looked up at Thranduil.   
“Did you hear about Bifur?” he asked. Thranduil nodded.   
“Bofur was saying this morning, they’ve been telling him to lock his door and set an alarm at night for years,” Bard said, “But he’s a stubborn goat and won’t listen. They’re honestly not surprised it’s happened.”   
“Could you tell Feren that? Because he’s blaming himself,” Thranduil said.   
“Yeah, I’ll talk to him,” Bard replied, “The only reason I didn’t let him follow Smaug is because I thought he might have a weapon on him, or at least enough tricks to put Feren out of commission for a long time if not permanently.”   
“You guys did the right thing,” Thranduil reassured him, “I asked you to look after Wednesday, and you did. Thank you.”   
“No problem,” Bard said, “She’s just inside. You should see it Thranduil, there’s girls in there from twenty miles away who have come for dance classes. This was a genius idea.”   
“And I never would have thought of it without her,” Thranduil mused, “C’mon, Poppy, let’s go see Wednesday.” He headed in, hearing the notes of piano music and Wednesday’s voice carrying over it. He walked into the main room, gently lowering Poppy to walk alongside him. 

 

Some eighteen girls aged between five and fifteen were lined up, nine on each side, one hand resting on a bar. Wednesday was carefully walking between them.   
“And one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight,” she said, “And one, two, three and four, five, six, seven, eight!” Each number she called out, the girls moved to a new position, in time with the music. He let out a deep breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding when Wednesday turned to face him. One hand cradled her large bump as she slowly walked up and down the centre of the room. A smile spread across her face when she saw him. The music finished.   
“Alright, girls, take five, get some water,” she said as she headed towards him. The girls broke off, chatter breaking out amongst them.   
“God, I’ve missed you,” Wednesday said as she got close.   
“I missed you too,” Thranduil replied, leaning in to kiss her. The moment his mouth touched hers, he felt at home, relaxed, safe. They pulled apart and he ran a hand over her bump. A gentle kick was the response he got.   
“Boy,” he said quietly.   
“Oh you finally made a decision then?” Wednesday laughed. Before he had left, they had been making guesses on the baby’s gender although it would remain a surprise. Thranduil had been indecisive.   
“Boy, I think so too.” she agreed, “So this must be Poppy.”   
“Yes,” Thranduil said, one hand resting on Poppy’s head, “Poppy, this is Wednesday. Remember I told you about her?” Poppy looked up at him and nodded before looking at Wednesday. She reached out and touched Wednesday’s bump. Another kick. Poppy squealed in delight.   
“I big sister!” Poppy declared.   
“Yes, you are,” Wednesday laughed. Sigrid appeared at Wednesday’s side, Tilda close behind her.   
“Is this Poppy?” she squealed, “Oh, she’s so cute! Hi Poppy!” Poppy grinned up at her.   
“Poppy, come with us, we’ll show you how to dance,” said Tilda, offering a hand to the toddler. Poppy happily took it, her teddy dropping to the floor as she scampered off with Bard’s daughters.   
“She’s taking this move rather well,” Wednesday observed as Thranduil moved closer, putting both hands on her bump.   
“I don’t think she understands everything completely, or she does and she’s just incredibly adaptable and resilient,” he murmured, “I missed you so much. I hate not sleeping next to you.”   
“And there’s me thinking you’d relish not sleeping next to a beached whale,” Wednesday joked. He leaned in and kissed her again.   
“You’re not a beached whale,” he murmured, “You are the most beautiful, goddamn sexy thing I’ve ever seen.”   
“I think you need your eyes checking,” she whispered back, “I love you.”   
“I love you too,” he replied, “I promise, I’m not going to go anywhere until this baby is born now.”   
“Good,” she said softly, “Because I’m going to tie you to the bed otherwise.” He laughed and kissed her again. It was good to be home.


	53. Labour

Thranduil was awake. He didn’t want to be, but he was. He kept his eyes closed, vaguely hoping that he might fall back off. It did not happen. No sooner was he on the verge of falling back to sleep, he heard the faint pitter-patter of small feet coming down the hall. The bedroom door creaked a little as it opened and he heard those same small feet pad over towards him. He opened one eye. Stood next to the bed was his young daughter.   
“Poppy,” he rasped, “Go back to bed.”    
“I wet,” Poppy declared.   
“Hmmm?”   
“Daddy! My bed wet!” Thranduil’s eye opened wide. He noted Poppy was missing her pyjama bottoms and diaper. He groaned and heard it echo from behind him. He sat up and looked behind him. Wednesday was laying on her side, facing away from him, one hand rubbing her back. He leaned over.   
“Hey? You okay?” he asked.   
“Yeah,” she muttered, “Braxton Hicks again. They started up again in the night.” He kissed her cheek and rubbed his hand along her spine a few times.   
“I’m fine, go sort Poppy out,” she said after minute, “I’m going to try to sleep some more.”   
“Yay! Pancakes!” Poppy yelled.   
“Uh-uh, little lady,” Thranduil said as he got off the bed, “You’re going to help me take the sheets off your bed and take a shower first! Then, we’ll have pancakes when Uncle Thorin and Uncle Bard get here.” Poppy groaned in disappointment.

 

Fifteen minutes later, having stripped Poppy’s bed and cleaned her up before dressing her, Thranduil made his way downstairs. Poppy held his hand as she climbed down the stairs next to him. As they reached the bottom, they heard the sound of two people coming up the drive, the gravel crunching underfoot.    
“Morning!” Bard said cheerfully as he opened the door using the spare key he kept, “Thought you’d have food on by now.”   
“Keep your voice down, will you?” Thranduil said, “Wednesday’s been up all night again.”   
“Contractions again?” Thorin asked. Thranduil nodded as he lifted Poppy up and headed into the kitchen.   
“That and little miss here had another accident this morning,” he said.   
“No, I not!” Poppy protested as Thranduil sat her on the counter.   
“Well, why was your bed wet this morning then?”   
“Legolas!”   
“Legolas came and wet your bed, did he?”   
“Yeah!”   
“I really doubt….”   
“Thranduil, you’re arguing with a three year old,” Thorin pointed out, “You’ll never win with logic.”   
“Right,” Thranduil said, rubbing one eye with the heel of his hand, “Can you watch her while I make breakfast?”   
“Poppy, do you want to come watch cartoons with me?” Thorin asked. The little girl clapped her hands.   
“Peppa pig!” she shouted.   
“Shhhh, baby, Mama’s still sleeping,” Thranduil said quietly.   
“Shhhh,” Poppy imitated, pressing her finger to her lips as Thorin lifted her from the counter.   
“Coffee,” Thorin said to Bard, pointing at Thranduil. Bard nodded as Thranduil started to pull out the ingredients for pancakes, yawning as he went. 

 

The sound of the TV being turned on made him glance over his shoulder. Thorin was sat on the couch, Poppy stood on it next to him, telling him all the characters names. Bard quickly set about making coffee in silence as Thranduil ran on auto-pilot.   
“I’m guessing if Wednesday’s not sleeping so well, neither are you?” he asked as Thranduil yawned again. Thranduil shook his head.   
“She struggles to settle,” he said, “So she ends up tossing and turning, and I can’t bring myself to fall asleep while she’s so uncomfortable.”   
“Ah well, another month and you’ll be not-sleeping for a whole other reason,” Bard said. Thranduil yawned again and nodded.   
“Look, you don’t need to come today,” Bard said, “Stay here, get a few hours on the couch.”   
“Do you really think Poppy will let me sleep if she’s awake?” Thranduil asked, “Besides, it’s not fair on Wednesday if I’m asleep when she’s tired as well.”   
“Well, tell Legolas to get his ass into gear and take his sister to the park,” Bard said, “Or is he still avoiding her like the plague.”   
“Still avoiding her,” Thranduil said as he mixed the pancake batter, “He’s not sure what to do with her or how to behave around her. She knows who he is, but I don’t think he’s even stood within three feet of her.”   
“He needs to get his head out his ass,” Bard muttered.   
“He does,” Thranduil agreed, “But I’ll give him credit where credit’s due, he really kept Feren’s head above water with this whole Bifur fiasco.”   
“Oh, latest on that, he’s awake and he’s complaining,” Bard said, “So Bofur says he’s fine.”   
“Three weeks in a coma,” Thranduil muttered, “Smaug’s got a lot to answer for.”   
“Like he didn’t before he came to YOUR house where YOUR pregnant fiancee was?” Bard asked, “The snake needs to be gotten rid of, end of story. Everyday we get more and more reasons to put an end to…”   
“Will you be quiet?” Thranduil hissed, “I know we talked about this but a lot has changed now! You’re a single parent, I have a toddler, an infant granddaughter and another child on the way. Thorin’s a father too. We can’t just….”   
“Kill him?” Bard suggested, “You didn’t talk like this before Laurina died. You weren’t so cautious.”   
“Yeah, well, a lot has changed since then,” Thranduil said as he put the pan over the heat, “I wasn’t thinking straight back then and neither were you.”   
“I know,” Bard said, “Neither of us were, but I just want to remind you, that there is not a single person in this town who will see or hear anything if it comes down to it.” Thranduil glanced over to the living room and Poppy who was showing Thorin all of her stuffed toys.   
“Let’s just pray it doesn’t come to that,” he said.

 

*

 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Thranduil asked Wednesday as he pulled on his jacket.   
“I’m fine, really,” she said as he walked towards her.   
“I won’t be gone too long,” he said, “I just need to go look over the vacation homes, make sure they’re ready for the first visitors.” He ran both hands over her bump.   
“Oh, someone’s dancing up a storm in there,” he said.   
“Tell me about it,” she groaned.   
“How about tonight, we’ll have dinner, I’ll run you a nice hot bath, put Poppy to bed and then I’ll give you a massage?” he said, leaning in and kissing her.   
“Mmm, sounds like heaven,” she replied.   
“I’ll be home as soon as I can,” he said, stepping back, “Try to rest.” A crashing sound from the living room made them both turn their heads.   
“With Hurricane Poppy? Not a chance,” she said, “Go on, we’ll be fine. I’ll call you if I need you.”   
“I love you,” he said.   
“Beyond all reason,” she replied. He kissed again before heading out the door. She watched as he climbed into his car and reversed off the drive. She sighed. These contractions were seriously starting to piss her off, but she had jobs to do. She had to take towels out the dryer, put Poppy’s sheets in as well as clean up whatever Poppy had just demolished.   
“Poppy, come help Mama Wednesday with the dryer please,” she called.   
“No!” came Poppy’s reply as another crash came from the living room.   
“Alright, little lady, you had better start cleaning that up or no dessert tonight,” Wednesday warned. Silence was the response. Better than another crash, Wednesday thought as she headed to the small laundry room. 

 

She just about managed to transfer the laundry around, shooting pains in her back as she worked.   
“Fu….” she managed to stop herself from cursing too loudly, “Nope, this isn’t good.” She finished throwing the sheets in the dryer and started it. Another sharp pain. She needed to call Thranduil, she thought, something was wrong. She grabbed the folded towels from the top of the dryer and headed for the stairs. Every foot felt like a mile and climbing the stairs felt comparable to climbing Everest. Something was definitely off. She put the towels in the linen closet, keeping one small one to hang in the bathroom. As she made it into the bathroom, she felt pain in her back once more, only much more sharply with an accompanying snapping feeling. She cried out as she felt something wet trickle down her legs which gave way beneath her, the pain creeping around across her front. Her heart thudded as she sat herself down on the floor. These weren’t Braxton Hicks contractions anymore she realised, this was the real deal. She muttered curses to herself as she tried to remember the breathing techniques the midwife had told her about. The pain eased slightly.   
“Poppy!” she shouted, “Poppy! I need your help!”   
“Mama?” she heard Poppy call from the stairs.   
“Poppy, I need you to find Mama’s phone,” Wednesday called back, “It’s on….” She trailed off. It was in the middle on the kitchen island….right where Poppy wouldn’t be able to reach it.   
“Mama, are you okay?”   
“Yeah, Mama just fell down,” Wednesday replied, not wanting to panic the little girl. She grabbed hold of the side of the bathtub to haul herself up but another contraction hit as she tried to stand. She let out a small scream.   
“I go find Daddy,” Poppy called.   
“No, Poppy, don’t!” Wednesday shouted back, “Don’t go out…” She heard the front door slam.   
“Fuck!”


	54. Little One

Legolas knew he was in trouble, Feren’s knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel. The mother of all arguments had broken out this morning and since then the only words spoken were Feren telling him to get in the car. Legolas had noted the rucksack that had been tossed on the back seat and he knew they were headed towards his Dad’s place. It looked like Feren was looking to get some space and the easiest way to do that was dump his ass on his Dad’s couch for a couple of days. Anger boiled up in Legolas’ stomach. Why the hell should he be the one to leave for a few days? He didn’t even have a bed at his Dad’s anymore, his old room had been stripped down and repainted to make room for the little half-sister that no one had known about until a month ago. One of the other spare rooms was in the middle of being turned into a nursery for the new baby and the other was filled with old boxes like it had been for decades; there wasn’t even a bed.   
“I know what you’re doing,” he muttered, looking out the window. He saw Feren glance at him briefly in the reflection.   
“Yeah, and you also know why,” Feren replied.   
“Look, I don’t see what the problem is…”   
“The problem is,” Feren cut him off, voice raised, “That in the last three weeks, you have been a complete ass and spent a grand total of ten minutes alone with your sister. After you promised you were going to help! Wednesday is fucking eight months pregnant, she can’t suddenly start running around after a three year old when she’s supposed to be resting. Your Dad is trying to get everything else moving so he can take something remotely resembling paternity leave when the baby gets here. And so far, buddy, you’ve failed to live up to that promise.”   
“I don’t have anything in common with her…”   
“Legolas, for fucks sake, she’s three,” Feren snapped, “You’re not supposed to have anything in common with her! But you suck it up and you pretend to like Barbies and Peppa Pig so she feels like she has a big brother. The poor kid lost her Mom already, she’s been thrust into this family where she doesn’t really know her place. She needs you far more than you realise and so does the one on the way.”   
“My Dad needs to tie a fucking knot in it,” Legolas muttered. The car suddenly screeched to a halt as Feren slammed on the breaks.   
“Oh, what? Now you’re going to have a go at me for criticising my Dad?” Legolas asked.   
“No, Poppy’s in the road,” Feren said, unbuckling his seatbelt. Legolas looked forward. Feren was right. About six foot in front of the car was his little sister, looking very upset and lost. Feren was there a few seconds later, scooping her up before Legolas even thought to undo his seatbelt. He sat there, watching, as Feren brushed the errant curls from Poppy’s tear-stained face, talking to her gently. He turned and headed towards Legolas’ side of the car. Legolas opened the door.   
“What’s happened?” he asked.   
“Apparently Wednesday’s taken a fall, Poppy was trying to find your Dad,” Feren said, handing Poppy over. Legolas mind raced with an image of Wednesday lying on the floor, cradling her bump. His heart pounded with fear and he immediately reached out and took hold of the sobbing toddler, wrapping her up in his arms.   
“Shush, it’s okay,” he whispered as Feren shut the door and raced back to his side, “It’s okay, we’re here, we’ll help Mama.”   
“Need Daddy,” Poppy sobbed, burying her face in his shoulder. Legolas reached into his pocket and pulled out his cellphone. By the time Feren had restarted the car, it was to his ear, the call connecting. The other end rang several times before it cut to voicemail.

 

_ This is Thranduil, leave a message. _ __   
__   
“Fu...dgsicile,” he caught himself before he cursed in front of Poppy, “He’s not answering.”   
“Keep trying, we may have to take Wednesday to the hospital,” Feren said as he put his foot down. Legolas redialled. Again it rang until it went to voicemail. They turned on to the driveway as Legolas attempted to call his father a third time. Still no answer.   
“Dad, answer your phone!” Legolas yelled in frustration as it went to voicemail again. Poppy sobbed again as he hung up.   
“I’m sorry,” he said his voice softening, “I’m sorry.” Feren was already out the car and through the front door as Legolas got out, Poppy still clinging to him.   
“Wednesday!” Feren yelled as Legolas followed him inside, “Wednesday!”   
“Up here!” came a pained shout from upstairs. The two of them charged up the stairs and followed her voice to the bathroom. 

 

Pushing open the door, they found Wednesday, half-lying on the floor surrounded by a puddle.   
“My water broke,” she said quickly before wincing, “Urgh, and I’m having contractions.”   
“You’re not due for nearly a month!” Feren spluttered.   
“Tell me something I don’t know,” she said, “Legolas, call your Dad.”   
“I’ve been trying since we found Poppy in the road but he’s not answering,” Legolas said as Feren moved to crouch in front of Wednesday.   
“Try Bard then, or Thorin! They’re at the vacation houses today,” she said before wincing again.   
“I don’t like how close those contractions are,” Feren said, pulling out his own cellphone, “I’m calling Oin.” He reached out his other hand and Wednesday grasped it as she tried to breath her way through it. Legolas pulled out his phone again, this time finding Bard’s number. As he listened to it ring, he watched Feren as he started talking.   
“Oin, it’s Feren, Wednesday’s in labour, her water’s broken and she’s having contractions,” he said, “How far apart?”   
“Less than two minutes,” Wednesday panted, “And I’ve been feeling the urge to push.”   
“Did you hear that?” Feren listened.to the reply before colour drained from his face.   
“Are you sure….well….when can you get here?” he asked, “Okay...I’ll try….” He set the phone down at his side.   
“Wednesday, Oin needs me to look and see how you’re doing?” he said. She groaned in pain.   
“Whatever! I don’t care, just get this thing out of me,” she said through gritted teeth. In Legolas’ ear, he heard the call shift to voicemail.   
“I’ll take Poppy downstairs,” Legolas said, “And I’ll keep trying to get hold of Dad. You ok, Feren?” Feren swallowed nervously.   
“Don’t have much of a choice do I? Unless you want to….”   
“Oh no way!” Legolas said, disappearing back out the door.

 

With a little help from Wednesday, Feren bunched up her dress and peeled down her underwear.   
“Whoa,” he said as he looked down, “Yeah, I’m definitely gay now.”   
“Now is not the time,” Wednesday tried not to laugh, “How’s it looking?” Feren picked up the phone.   
“Oin, I can see the head,” he said, “What do I do? Catch and pull?! I thought it would be a little more complicated than that. Right, get here as fast as you can.” He hung up and looked at Wednesday.   
“Push with the pain, I’m going to catch them,” he said before turning towards the door, “Legolas! I need something clean to catch your sibling in!” Moments later, a hand appeared around the door holding a towel.   
“Coward,” Feren muttered as he took it, “Ready?”   
“I want Thranduil,” Wednesday said quietly.   
“Believe me, I wish he was here too,” Feren reassured her, “Remember, breathe and push with the pain.” She nodded, her head lowering slightly as she felt another contraction start.   
“Alright, Wednesday, push,” Feren said as calmly as he could manage. She groaned, her eyes closing as she concentrated. Feren couldn’t help but watch in amazement as Wednesday pushed her child a little further.   
“Oh, wow, how the hell are you doing this?” he said out loud.   
“I don’t fucking know,” Wednesday sobbed as she felt the pain ease. She slumped slightly as the contraction passed and tried to catch her breath.   
“I think one more and the head will be out,” Feren said, his face draining of colour, “And then shoulders…”   
“Feren, you’re doing great,” she panted, “Just stay with me, okay? How long did Oin say he would be?”   
“He’s leaving now, he should be here in ten,” Feren said, “But I don’t think this one is going to wait that long.”   
“Then we do that best we can,” Wednesday said, grunting as pain flared up again.   
“Legolas!” Feren yelled, “Any luck?”   
“Bard’s not answering either, wish me luck I’m trying Thorin!”

 

*

 

Thranduil threw his head back and laughed. The vacation homes were finally ready, on track and it was a load of his mind.   
“When are you supposed to be going on paternity leave?” Bard asked, “I thought you intended to spend the last couple of weeks of Wednesday’s pregnancy with her?”   
“She’s got three weeks yet,” Thranduil said, “This was the last thing I wanted to get done before I went.”   
“Well, they’re done,” Bard said, glancing at the houses, “And not a moment too soon.”   
“First guests arrive next week,” Thorin said, “They….” He was cut off by the sound of his phone ringing.   
“Who the hell calls you?” Bard laughed. Thorin pulled his phone from his pocket.   
“It’s Legolas,” he said, casting a look at Thranduil before answering, “Durinson. Whoa, slow down, what? Yeah, he’s here...alright.” He held the phone out to Thranduil who took it.   
“Legolas?” Thranduil asked.   
“Dad! Wednesday’s in labour! She’s giving birth in the bathroom!” Legolas yelled down the phone into his ear.   
“What?!”   
“The baby is coming now!”    
“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he said, quickly hanging up and tossing the phone back to Thorin, “Looks like my paternity leave starts now.”   
“She’s in labour?” Bard asked.   
“Yeah, in the bathroom of all places,” Thranduil muttered, “I’ll call you when the baby’s here.” He dashed towards his car, finding his cellphone on the driver’s seat showing twelve missed calls.   
“Shit,” he muttered, tossing it to the passenger side and getting in.

 

He drove quickly, luckily the roads of Lake Dale were as quiet as ever, though he almost clipped a green station wagon as he made the final corner. He pulled up on the drive and got out the car as swiftly as he could, running up the driveway and in through the front door. He briefly spotted Legolas stood holding Poppy in the kitchen when he heard a scream from Wednesday. He looked up as there was a few seconds of silence and then….

 

The cry from a baby made him release the breath he was holding as he raced up the stairs. He burst into the bathroom to find Wednesday clutching a tiny infant with a full head of hair to her chest. Feren knelt in front of her, face pale, covering the baby with a towel before he backed away towards the toilet. Wednesday looked up at him.   
“Where the hell have you been?!” she demanded. He couldn’t find the words to answer her as he crouched next to her, staring at the wriggling, screaming baby in her arms. His baby. He couldn’t take his eyes off them; the two of them, together, were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to Wednesday’s forehead.   
“It’s a boy,” Feren said hoarsely as he leaned back against the wall, “You have another son.”   
“A boy?” Thranduil breathed, “We have a boy!” Wednesday sobbed but a huge smile remained on her face as she looked up at him.   
“I love you,” she whispered. Thranduil leaned down and kissed her.   
“I love you too,” he said softly. He heard the front door slam downstairs.   
“Some wally in a blasted beamer almost cut me up!” Oin’s disgruntled voice echoed up the stairs.   
“That may have been me,” Thranduil admitted, making her laugh. The baby in her arms whimpered slightly and her smile widened as Thranduil gently placed a hand on their son’s head.   
“Hello, little one,” she whispered, “We’ve been waiting so long for you.”


	55. Odie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For DeputyMom62

The sound of gentle rapping on the door drew Thranduil’s attention. He turned his head and looked towards the door of the hospital room.   
“Dís,” he said quietly.   
“Hey,” she said in hushed voice when she saw what he held in his arms, “Feren called, asked me to bring this.” She held up a duffel bag that Thranduil instantly recognised.   
“Wednesday’s hospital bag,” he muttered, closing his eyes, “I knew we had forgotten something. Come on in.” Dís slid in, closing the door behind her. She crossed over to sit in the chair next to him, placing the bag beside it.   
“So is this what has caused such a stir back home?” she asked, leaning over slightly.   
“Yes,” Thranduil said before looking down. Tucked inside his shirt, curled up on his chest, was his newborn son.   
“Oin says he had quite the dramatic arrival,” Dís said, smiling down at the infant, “Bathroom floor?”   
“Yeah, he picked his moment,” Thranduil said as he looked over at the bed where Wednesday lay asleep, “But Wednesday….she’s….I don’t even have words to describe her right now. She’s incredible, and this one…”    
“Does he have a name?”   
“Nothing fixed yet,” he admitted, “But I think we’re going to give him ‘Feren’ as a middle name.”   
“Considering how traumatised the original sounded on the phone, I think that is the least you can do,” Dís said, “And maybe a pay rise.”   
“Oh, he’s getting one, and a bonus,” Thranduil chuckled. The baby on his chest grizzled at the movement.   
“Sorry, kiddo,” he whispered.   
“He’s beautiful,” she said.   
“I know,” Thranduil murmured in reply.”   
“How early is he?”   
“About two and a half weeks,” he answered, brushing over the baby’s dark hair with his fingertips, “But the nurses said he’s a really good weight, just short of nine pounds. If he’d gone full term, he’d be closer to ten.”   
“I think Wednesday will be glad he came when he did, Fili was ten pounds two,” Dís said, “Kili was almost as much. I felt for quite some time I can tell you.” Thranduil smiled down at his son.   
“You’re besotted,” she said.   
“From the moment I laid eyes on him,” he admitted, “He’s incredible, and so is Wednesday.”   
“I should go, I’ve got my insurance physical,” Dís said, getting up, “Let me know when you settle on a name.”   
“I will.” Dís gave him and the baby another smile before leaving.

 

Thranduil sat for several minutes, looking down at the slumbering infant in his arms, humming a tune that he couldn’t place a name to.    
“She’s right, you do need a name,” he said gently, “I wonder what it is? Ceven? Feredir? No, they’re not right for you. What about Oropher? After your grandfather?” The baby shifted and made a small noise.   
“Oropher, okay, we’ll run that one by Mama when she wakes up,” he said, “She might want to name you after your other grandfather. Oropher David Feren, how does that sound?” Again, the baby made a small noise.   
“She’s wanted you for so long,” Thranduil said, running his fingers over his hair again, “She has no idea how long I’ve wanted you, how long I’ve loved her. The minute she stepped out on that stage, I fell in love. She looked like an angel in that club, and I knew that I wanted her in every way possible the moment she spoke.” He looked down and saw a pair of big blue eyes looking back at him.   
“Hey there,” he smiled, “You want to hear more about your Mama, huh?” His son gurgled up at him.   
“I couldn’t stop thinking about her after that night,” he continued, “I wanted to go back and see her again but...life got in the way, I thought I had a development with finding your brother. And then as fate would have it, she ended up outside my door. I never planned it, but I never wanted her to leave either.” He shifted the baby into a new position so he could see him better.   
“Your Mama lightened up my life, and I wanted to give her everything,” he smiled down at his son, “When she asked me if I ever wanted to be a father again, god, I hoped she was already pregnant, I wanted that with her. I wanted you. Everything started falling into place after that. I felt on top of the world with your Mama at my side. And then we nearly lost your brother, and I was scared. And then we thought we were losing you, and I was terrified. But we got through it, we got through everything. And I promise, I will never let Smaug so much as breathe in the direction of our lives ever again. You won’t suffer the way the rest of us have, I promise you son.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to his son’s forehead.

 

“Thranduil?” a sleepy voice from the bed caught his attention. Wednesday’s eyes were open and blinking.   
“Hey, how did you sleep?” he asked.   
“Alright, I guess,” she said, “It didn’t feel like I went deep though.”   
“Probably listening for him,” Thranduil said as he stood up, “He’s been listening to me tell him stories.”   
“Oh yeah? What kind of stories?”   
“How we met.”   
“Urgh, you didn’t mention the lap dance did you?” Thranduil laughed as she grimaced.   
“No, my queen, I did not,” he said, walking over to her just as the baby started to whimper and squirm, “I think he’s hungry.” Wednesday held her arms out and he placed the baby in them. He watched, a smile on his face as Wednesday shifted her clothes and held the baby to her breast. She winced a little.   
“You okay?” he asked.   
“Yeah, it just really hurts,” she replied, “But I want to do this, so I’m going to stick with it. It’s best for...he needs a name.”   
“I had a thought on that,” Thranduil said, “Oropher David Feren. After our fathers and the man who helped bring him into the world.”   
“I like it,” Wednesday smiled, “I think I traumatised Feren.”   
“He’ll get over it,” Thranduil reassured her, “Dís came by, we must have  missed your bag when we were being bundled into the ambulance. She was coming here anyway, so she dropped it off.” Wednesday nodded as she looked down at their son.   
“I can’t believe he’s here, and that he’s ours,” she said.   
“Believe it,” Thranduil whispered, leaning in and kissing her head, “I love you.”   
“I love you too.”

 

*

 

Wednesday didn’t need to get out the car to know that Bofur’s was heaving.   
“Are you sure about this?” Thranduil asked, “We can just go straight home.”   
“No, this is going to be the easiest way for everyone to meet him without home being invaded over and over,” Wednesday said, “Like ripping off a band-aid.”   
“Well, looks like everyone’s in there,” Thranduil said, “You want to hold him or me?”   
“I want to hold him.”   
“Okay.” They got out the car, Thranduil grabbing the diaper bag as Wednesday lifted out their son.   
“Alright then, Oropher, time to go meet all our family and friends,” she said, holding him against her chest. They had been in hospital for just over twenty-four hours, the medical staff had been happy for them to head home. Thranduil slid his arm around her shoulders protectively as they approached the pub. A cheer went up as they entered.    
“Congratulations!” Bofur called from behind the bar. Another cheer, and Thranduil was beaming proudly.   
“Everyone, meet our son, Oropher David Feren Elfking,” he said. Another cheer.   
“Move! Move!” they heard Legolas saying as he pushed his way through the throng, “We want to meet our little brother!” He emerged in front of them, Poppy resting on his hip. He immediately stumbled forward towards Wednesday and Oropher.   
“Look, Poppy,” he said, “Our baby brother.”   
“Baby brother,” Poppy said firmly, “Oror….Oro...Oreo!”   
“No, Oropher,” Legolas corrected.   
“Orie!”   
“How about Odie?” Wednesday suggested, “His first two initials?”   
“I like that,” Thranduil said, “Odie. Where’s Feren?”   
“Oh, over there,” Legolas said, pointing towards a booth. 

 

Feren was relaxed in his seat, a half-empty glass in front of him. He offered a small smile as Wednesday began to make her way over. She heard people cooing over her baby as she went.   
“Hey,” she said.   
“Hey.”   
“He’s okay?”   
“He’s perfect, you did great,” she said. He nodded.   
“You gave him my name,” he said. He sounded uncertain.   
“Well, you did help me bring him into the world,” she said, “It seemed appropriate. Here.” She didn’t allow him to hesitate and instead placed the baby in his arms.   
“Umm,” he mumbled as he stared down at Odie, “Hi.” Odie gurgled at him and Feren smiled.   
“Nice to see you again, little guy.”


	56. Burning Bridges

Wednesday smiled down at the sleeping baby in her arms. Odie. Her son. She still couldn’t believe he was hers. The pub had died down, most folks having offered their congratulations and cooed over the sleeping infant. As tired as she felt and would have loved to go home, she was just as happy sitting in the booth, watching his face as he slept. The pub was warm and cosy, and they were surrounded by family and friends.    
“Hey,” the sound of Thranduil’s voice made her look up, “How is he?”   
“He’s fine,” she said, “He’s not long had a feed.” He leaned in and kissed her head.   
“I love you both,” he whispered as he sat down next to her, one arm slipping around her shoulders and pulling her in close, “We’ll head home soon.” Wednesday nodded, looking at her other side where Poppy lay asleep curled up on the bench. When she turned back to Thranduil, he was still smiling down at her.   
“What?” she asked.   
“Nothing, just…” he hesitated, “I really wish I had had chance to marry you before he arrived. I’m sorry Orcrist took away the opportunity for me to give you that dream wedding.”   
“Any wedding to you would be my dream,” she said.   
“I’m going to give it to you one day,” he said, “Big white dress, cake, the whole lot. Just don’t tell Galadriel I said that.” Wednesday laughed causing Odie to grizzle at being jostled.   
“Sorry, little man,” she said, gently rocking him.. He was just dropping back off when a glass was put down on the table rather more heavily that was necessary. 

 

Odie cried at the noise as Wednesday jumped. She looked up from the almost empty glass to Feren. He seemed unsteady and one look at his bleary eyes told her he was incredibly drunk, to the point she was surprised he was still upright. She didn’t need to wonder what he’d been doing since he had handed the baby back to her. His gaze was as focussed on Odie as it could be and she instinctively tightened her hold on him. She felt Thranduil’s hand take hold of her arm.   
“Feren,” he said, “You’ve had a few.”   
“Shouldn’t have done it, boss,” he slurred.   
“Done what?”   
“Named him after me, I’m no good for it,” Feren said, swaying slightly, “I’m no good.”   
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Thranduil said, “You’ve worked for me for fourteen years, I know you.” Feren shook his head.   
“No I’m not!” he insisted, “I’ve been lying to you….” He looked down at his feet.   
“Feren?”   
“I wasn’t looking for Legolas when I said I was,” he said, “More often than not, he was sat right next to me when I told you I was still looking.” Wednesday glanced up at Thranduil. His jaw was locked and his nostrils flared. He was angry and she suspected that he was controlling his temper purely because of her presence and Odie’s.    
“I’m sure you had your reasons,” he said, his voice had dropped low, his eyes were flashing blue fire. For a moment, she was scared of him and had to remind herself it wasn’t her that was provoking his wrath.   
“Yeah, I wanted to fuck your son in peace,” Feren muttered, “You’re such a hardass, I wanted to tell you so many times where to stick your fucking job.”   
“Feren,” Thranduil’s voice was a warning but the young man didn’t pick up on it.   
“I stuck around to pay for my mom’s care,” Feren spat, “She’s gone..I don’t need you anymore.” He went to sit in the chair next to him but missed, collapsing to the floor. A low growl rumbled in Thranduil’s chest as silence fell over the remaining patrons, who all turned and stared at Feren’s drunken form.   
“Legolas,” Thranduil said clearly, “Take your boyfriend home before he loses his job.” Legolas hurried forward, hauling Feren from the floor.   
“C’mon, let’s go home,” he said calmly.   
“Get off me!” Feren said, shrugging off the young man’s grip, “I don’t need your help!” He stumbled towards the door, Legolas close behind him. Thranduil watched them go.   
“Let’s go home,” he said, his voice still dangerously low as he turned to Wednesday. She nodded and the two of them slipped out of the booth. Wednesday grabbed the diaper bag for Odie whilst Thranduil lifted Poppy up into his arms. He led the way out, moving fast. Wednesday could feel the anger rolling off him and the eyes of everyone in the pub on them. 

 

As they left, Wednesday could hear Legolas shouting after Feren down the road. The drunken man wasn’t listening and Legolas’ patience was wearing thin.    
“Wednesday,” Thranduil’s voice drew her attention to where he was stood by the car. He’d already got Poppy in the car and was watching her. She hesitated for a moment. He sighed and looked down.

“I’m not mad at you, remember,” he said, “Okay? I just want to get you and our babies home where you’re safe, and drunken pricks aren’t insulting my generosity and faith in them.” She nodded and headed towards the car. He reached over and lifted Odie from her arms. The baby stirred. Wednesday watched as Thranduil gently hushed him, placing him in the car seat. She smiled. The sight of him, holding their baby, made her love him even more, if that was even possible. He was a large man, and to see him holding the tiny newborn in his hands, reassured her that he was going to be the best possible father for Odie and Poppy. She slid into the passenger seat as he closed the door on the back seat. Once he was in the driver’s seat, Thranduil took a deep breath and leaned his head back.   
“I wasn’t expecting any of that,” he said, his voice shaking a little, “Certainly not him wanting to quit. I had no idea he was unhappy.”   
“He’s probably just drunk,” Wednesday tried to reassure him but her gut told her something was wrong.   
“I’ll talk to him tomorrow when he’s sober,” Thranduil said, straightening up and starting the car.

 

*

 

It felt good when they stepped back into the house. Poppy lay on Thranduil’s shoulder, murmuring in her sleep, Odie was beginning to cry, ready for his diaper to be changed and Wednesday was ready to sleep. Thranduil headed straight up the stairs and Wednesday followed. He headed straight to Poppy’s room and she went into theirs. She smiled when she saw the small crib next to her side of the bed but it quickly faded. Feren must have put it together for them. He’d done so much for them, he was a part of the family but tonight...in just a few short moments, he had drunkenly tried to throw it all away. She grabbed a towel from the top of the dresser and laid it out on the bed to change Odie’s diaper. They still had a few things to get for him, admittedly they’d left a lot quite late. But he was here now and that was what she wanted to focus on. She was just redressing him when Thranduil came back in.   
“She okay?” she asked as she fastened the last button.   
“Yeah, she just want to know where Legolas was,” he said as he reached down and lifted Odie into his arms. Wednesday smiled as he pressed a kiss to their son’s head.   
“I’m worried about Feren and Legolas,” she admitted. Thranduil nodded.   
“Me too,” he said, “I’ve seen Feren drunk before but this...there’s something else there. It’s not just guilt at wasting my time and money. I get why he did that, he wanted time with Legolas before they came back to reality. I did the same with you. I cancelled and rearranged more meetings than I can count just so I could see you or pick you up after you finished work.” Wednesday swallowed.   
“What do we do?” she asked.   
“I refused to get involved and fix Tauriel’s relationship, we’re not going to go in and fix Legolas’ for him,” he replied, “But I will talk to them both tomorrow and try to set them on the right path.” He began to rock back and forth with Odie.   
“You ready for this?” he asked, smiling as he looked at their son, “Up at all hours of the night with someone who just wants you for your breasts?”   
“I’ve had over a years practice with you,” she grinned.   
“Oh baby, that’s cold!”

 

*

 

Wednesday smiled as she settled back down in bed. Odie was freshly fed, asleep in his crib. As soon as she lay down, she felt Thranduil’s arm creep over her waist as he snuggled in closer. He kissed her head and sighed happily.    
“How’s my boy?” he whispered.   
“Milk drunk, I think,” she replied, “He fell asleep still feeding.” Thranduil chuckled.   
“Go back to sleep,” he said softly, “You’re going to need it.” She sighed and closed her eyes. She was just starting to drift off when she heard the front door slam. Thranduil half-rolled over, his hand still resting on Wednesday’s hip. Odie stirred and began to cry.   
“I’ll go check it out, you take care of him,” Thranduil said quietly. Wednesday nodded. He slipped out the bed as she did and scooped up Odie.    
“Legolas.” 

 

She turned when she heard Thranduil say his eldest sons name. She headed out onto the landing and peered over the railing. Legolas was sat on the floor by the door, his head in his hands. His shoulders were shaking even as Thranduil sat next to him and pulled him in close.   
“It’s all gone wrong, Dad,” he sobbed, “He….I know he’s drunk but the things he said were horrible. He told me that he slept with a load of other guys when we first met, that he resented me for making him settle down. I couldn’t stay there. I had to get out.”   
“It’s all right,” Thranduil said soothingly, “You can stay here as long as you need. Does he know you’re here?”   
“No, he passed out before I left.”   
“Okay, I’ll go get you some blankets,” Thranduil said. Wednesday saw him stand up and head towards the stairs. He looked up and saw her.   
“Hey, it’s alright, go back to bed,” he said as he approached the top of the stairs.    
“I knew something was wrong,” she said. Thranduil sighed and placed one hand on Odie’s head.   
“It appears Feren is keen to burn every bridge he has,” he said, “Go back to bed, I’ll deal with all this in the morning. Do you remember what I said when you found out you were pregnant? Odie is still your priority. I will take care of this, you make sure he’s fed, changed and loved for both of us, okay?” She nodded.   
“You take care of Legolas then,” she said.   
“Deal,” he said, leaning in and kissing her forehead, “Go back to bed.”

 

*

 

Breakfast was a quiet affair the following morning. Wednesday relaxed in her chair, feeding Odie, watching. Thranduil was sipping his coffee, his mind clearly elsewhere. Poppy was chattering away to Legolas who was trying to smile but looked as tired as Wednesday felt. A knock at the door and Legolas jumped to his feet and raced towards it. Poppy tried to follow but found herself scooped up by Thranduil. He pressed a finger to his lips and she copied him. They couldn’t see the door but Wednesday could hear.   
“Hey,” came Feren’s voice. He sounded hungover.   
“Hey.”   
“Look, I know I can’t apologise enough for the stupid stuff I said last night,” Feren said, “I was drunk and I wanted to hurt you so I told you stuff that I should have kept to myself.”   
“You wanted to hurt me?!” Legolas responded, “Feren, you cheated on me and kept it to yourself until you wanted to hurt me?!” Wednesday immediately reached out and grabbed Thranduil's arm as he made to stand up.   
“I’m sorry, I really am,” Feren said, “I’m going to go see my aunt and my cousin for a while and put the house up for sale.” The sound of feet crunching over gravel greeted Wednesday and she looked at Thranduil. He had a concerned expression on his face.   
“Feren, wait!” Legolas called. The footsteps stopped.   
“Give me a few days, let me think things through before you sell the house,” he said, “I’ll call you when I’ve made a decision.” There was a moment of silence before the sound of footsteps started again. Wednesday bit her lip and tried not to cry as Legolas shut the door and returned to the dining room. He sank back into his chair and put his head in his hands. He sobbed.   
“Daddy, where’s Feren going?” Poppy asked.   
“Away,” Thranduil said, “So you need to take care of Legolas for him.”   
“Okay,” Poppy said, wiggling out of his arms and bouncing over to Legolas. Wednesday watched as the young man lifted up his little sister, wondering just how she was going to keep the rest of this family together.


End file.
